Eros Turannos
by Emerald-Leaves
Summary: Love the Tyrant. Oderint dum metuant- Let them hate as long as they fear. AU set in time around the Clone Wars. Vader/Amidala. Mature content.
1. Chapter 1: Arrangements

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize any of the characters or universe, they're obviously not mine.

* * *

**Chapter One: Arrangements**

_Kriff. _

Padmé Amidala was not normally one to curse, but this certainly was an acceptable opportunity. She was tired, scared, and completely out of options. They'd caught them. There was no way out now. She had put all of her chips out on the table, and had lost the hand. The Empire had called her bluffs and was coming to collect, only she had nothing to give except that which was dearest to her.

Immediately she scrambled to her feet and went through her room to her personal pad. She began deleting every incriminating piece of information she had, even as the troopers were coming ever closer to the apartment complex. Everything, every file, every letter, every everything had to be destroyed. With that in mind, after deleting what needed to be gone, she smashed the pad and stomped on the pieces before sweeping up the remains and shoving them in a box under her bed that houses other broken pieces of equipment she hadn't taken out to the recycling yet.

As she straightened herself up and her apartment as best as she could, Padmé's mind buzzed with possibilities as to what she could say. Of course she was a high ranking member of society, she could deflect a lot of what was happening…at least for a short time. But the Empire thus far was not exactly known for being reasonable. If there was even a hint of treason, a being was sentenced and silenced so fast there was no time for appeals, no time for any sort of help or intervention. There were, more often than not, not even a trial. Once within the grasp of the Empire all anyone could be was be kriffed.

Hearing the Storm Troopers just outside, Padmé sat down on her couch and picked up a pad that she'd brought home with work on it. She turned her head towards the door, schooling her expression to be one of shock for when the troopers kicked down her door. They would be filming her reaction, of course, and anything that she did or didn't do would be used against her in court… Not that the court system was fair if they bothered with it at all. It was just for show. Like the senate.

When the troopers finally did burst through her doors, Padmé's expression was one of perfect shock as she stood up from her seat. "What is this?" she demanded after the appropriate amount of time. "What are you doing here?"

Troopers began flooding into the apartment, blasters raised as they scouted out the apartment, looking for anyone else that might be hidden inside. Luckily there was no one here today. "We have a warrant for your arrest, Senator," the Commander said bluntly, already getting binders out to cuff her.

"Arrest?!" Padmé exclaimed with the right amount of shocked indignation. "On what grounds?"

"Treason," the Commander replied simply. "Now please turn around."

"But I haven't done anything!" She had to put up a bit of a fight. It would be unrealistic if she simply gave into demands.

"Please turn around," the Commander said again, this time a little less patiently. "You're to be questioned."

"For what?" Padmé snapped, narrowing her eyes. "I haven't _done _anything. What sort of treasonous acts have I supposable committed?"

"I don't have clearance to give you that information," the Commander snapped.

"All's clear, Commander," a trooper called out from her bedroom.

"Come with me, Senator. If you continue to resist, I will stun you."

Padmé weighed her options. She knew she was going to end up in a cell no matter what, but what looked less suspicious? Fighting as was her instinct when she was caught by surprise— and she had to make them all believe she was caught by surprise— or to give in to the request? She thought about all of the people she'd be letting down if she chose unwisely.

"Fine," she spat, turning around and putting her hands behind her back. "But this is ridiculous! When I make contact with my—"

"Commander," another trooper cut off her rant. "We found a box of destroyed equipment."

"What sort of equipment?" the Commander asked, as he cuffed Padmé.

"A broken pad, some old holocoms, and some broken pieces from a droid."

"That's my scrap box," Padmé rolled her eyes, scowling at the emotionless white helmets. "Is not taking out my recycling somehow treasonous now too?"

The troopers didn't reply as they took her away, bring the box and several others with old reports and whatnot with them. Padmé was a little worried, but she'd done everything to erase any evidence and connection she had with the Rebel Alliance, and it would take a genius with too much time on their hands over the course of a year or more to retrieve any information from her pad. The Empire would lose interest and patience. And besides, everyone had a scrap box of old technology. Nothing looked suspicious, especially since she'd kept other boxes of things under her bed too. She knew they'd look there, and they knew she knew they'd look there. She had made herself look as less suspicious as possible without that looking suspicious. If they wanted to actually arrest her for a reason, they would have a hard time doing so, and they would have to have a good reason. The galaxy was on the side of Senator Amidala, Champion of the People and former Queen of Naboo, and the new Empire couldn't afford anymore slipups, especial if someone as beloved as Padmé was in the middle.

The ride to the interrogation center was long and silent. Padmé had to work to stay angry and not let any of her nervousness show. She struggled a bit, as was to be expected, and she even snarled at the troopers that rode in the back with her a couple times. Not that they responded, but it did make her feel a little better.

When it came time for the interrogation, Padmé snapped and yelled at the troopers some more, demanding to see her lawyer. Technically, she had diplomatic immunity, or she had before the Empire's creation, but even as she reminded the interrogators of that fact, she knew that diplomatic immunity probably didn't exist anymore. At least not for her. But thankfully after about an hour or so of questioning, they must have gotten bored and/or too frustrated with her, because she was taken to a holding cell. Once alone, after yelling at the guards some more, Padmé slumped down on the bunk with a sigh. What a day.

Now that she was alone, she had time to think. She knew that there were cams watching her closely, but she just showed her true exhaustion over the situation. She had nothing to hide…as far as they knew. She laid back and stared up at the ceiling wondering what would become of her, of what would become of the rebels. All the message she'd received earlier had said was: _They know. They're after you. _

What did that mean, though? How much did they _know_? They obviously didn't know much if they had taken the time to question her and not just simply put her on the short list for execution. With what the Empire had found out, it was obvious that they still didn't know enough and they had to keep her around for a little while.

Would they torture her? She hadn't thought of that earlier, but the possibility of it frightened her. But of course she couldn't let on, or she had to try not to. Despite how much the Emperor hated it, Padmé was still a very important figure in the galaxy. Despite the people being stupid enough to _elect _an emperor and _support _the overthrow of democracy, they still very much adored Padmé. She was essentially the sweetheart of the galaxy, the Champion of Good, and she had a tremendous weight behind her when it came to politics. The Emperor couldn't just sweep her under the rug as he had with so many others.

But what _would _he do with her? The Rebel Alliance had a pretty bad reputation with most people at the moment. Somehow Palpatine had been able to manipulate events so that the Empire had looked like the ultimate good in a crumbling, chaotic society. The people believed that he had saved them all from a virtual galaxy-wide apocalypse, for Force sake! So even though there were those few, like Padmé, who knew the truth of how evil and corrupt the Empire was and joined the Rebel Alliance, the vast majority of the galaxy backed the Emperor, as scary as that was. If Palpatine accused her of being a part of the rebels, even with her popularity and the sure outcry that would come from such a thing, Padmé feared that in the end, the people would turn against her. The real question now was, how long would that take?

An hour or so passed with Padmé trying to think of every scenario that could occur when the troopers came back. They opened her cell, and gestured for her to get up and follow. They weren't talking. That wasn't a good sign. Even though she tried to fight it, a thrill of fear shot through Padmé. Had they convicted her already? Had they found out? Had she not destroyed all the information about the Alliance well enough, and they found it? Did Palpatine simply not care and was going to get rid of her? The possibilities for the troopers' sudden change in attitude were numerous, and could be as simple as them just not wanting to speak. It was quite possible that her imagination was getting the better of her, and so Padmé forced herself to remain calm as she got up and walked past the troopers, allowing them to take her to wherever it was she was supposed to go.

As it turned out, she was escorted to the Throne Room of the recently built palace. Padmé had not realized that the detention cells were so near or connected to the palace before, but she knew she shouldn't be all that surprised. Palpatine was a sick bastard, he probably went to torture prisoners for fun when he had some down time for laughs. He _was _a Sith Lord, after all. But Padmé still had trouble grasping that idea. She'd known him for years as just a friendly politician from Naboo, and sadly enough, a mentor of sorts in politics. Never had she imagined the kind old gentlemen to be a Sith! Not like his apprentice…

"Ah, Senator Amidala," the Emperor's voice floated towards her across the large expanse once the majestic five meter mahogany doors were opened. "It is so good to see you, my dear."

Padmé scowled. "_Emperor _Palpatine," she spat as she and the troopers continued to walk forward before stopping before the throne. "What is the meaning of this?"

The old man grinned in sick delight, bearing his yellow teeth at her. It was disgusting. "Oh, you do not know?" he mocked, his voice sympathetic, but Padmé could hear the sneer underneath it. "I received troubling news about the Rebel Alliance this morning."

Padmé continued to scowl, not giving any sign of guilt or understanding. "The Reb—? What does that have to do with me?" she asked incredulously. The Emperor wasn't the only actor.

The smile slipped form the Sith's face as his sharp golden eyes narrowed into slits. All humor seemed to have fled him now. "You know perfectly well what this has to do with you."

A chill wanted to run down the senator's spine, but she refused to let it. Perhaps it wasn't so hard to imagine her former mentor as a Sith after all. "I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, working to keep her breathing steady.

The Emperor sat back in his chair, staring at her intently for several long minutes, even as Padmé tried her best to continue glaring at the old man. It was much harder than she thought it would be, and a few times, she had to dart her eyes away before continuing her glaring. His eyes were just so intense. They burned. But she couldn't give up. She couldn't let herself crumble and be pushed around. If she was going to go down and die, she would not show weakness, would keep her head held high…or at least, she hoped she could.

After another moment, the Emperor leaned forward, twitching his hand ever so slightly. It was some sort of signal, but Padmé didn't know what for. She supposed it was the signal of her doom, but she remained staring at the Emperor.

"Senator," Palpatine began, a cool, easy smirk finding its way on his lips. That wasn't a good sign. "I do not think that you have been introduced to my apprentice?"

Brown eyes widened in realization and fear. Without meaning to, Padmé flinched, cursing herself as she did so. Being face to face with the Emperor was one thing, she'd done it so many times before and could recall him as a different man, one less intimidating than he was now. But the Emperor's heir? That was something completely different.

The nasty smirk grew into a vicious smile as the Emperor leaned back casually, as though making himself more at ease. "You haven't, have you?" he mused cruelly. "I think it's high time you become acquainted with him. Lord Vader!" he called. "You may come forth."

Padmé watched in horror as a figure melted out of the shadows, the looming form of Darth Vader. The sudden sound of his respirator hissing filled the room, and the senator found herself shuddering before she could have stopped it. Who wouldn't cringe at the sight of the Emperor's Right Hand? Who in their right mind would not be scared of Darth Vader?

Not much was known about the Emperor's Shadow, but everyone knew that the Sith was dangerous. Extremely so. Some said more so than the Emperor. Who and what Vader was remained a mystery to the galaxy. No one knew why the creature beneath the black armor wore the suit, why he needed a respirator, and no one probably ever would. There was no home planet for this Sith, no life before the Empire that could be traced. It was as though Vader suddenly just appeared, born a fully grown terror alongside the Empire. The moment the Empire was created, so Vader too crawled up from the depths of the underworld. Some said he was spawned out of hell by Palpatine to be his warrior, others said that he was simply an extension of the Emperor himself, separated by sorcery to serve. But what known for a fact was that Darth Vader would now and always remain an enigma.

This enigma, however, was known for his ruthlessness, his cunning, and his brutality. There were very few people that lived once Vader was sent to enact Imperial _justice_, and those that did were only yet alive because Vader willed it. There was no reasoning with the Sith and begging was utterly useless. Some said it strengthened him. Once Lord Vader had it in his mind to kill you, you were dead. Vader cast a Shadow of Death upon the Empire, in the name of _order. _He was the poster child for the Empire, the looming threat and reminder to everyone who had thoughts of disobeying or causing trouble. Everyone knew and feared the Sith in black, and for good reason.

But what was he doing here now? Vader was a highly skilled and fierce warrior, surely the Emperor would not waste his apprentice on a mere execution of a lowly senator? Of perhaps Vader would be the one to torture her? Padmé had heard rumors of the Sith's…_efficient_ methods of gaining information. If stories were to be believed—and everyone was nearly one hundred percent certain that these stories could not be made up— the interrogation of enemies by field commanders of the 501st was like an interview for the holovid compared to what Vader did to you. One story said that Vader once disemboweled a man while he'd still been alive and forced him to eat his own entrails. Another said that he began dismembering a woman's child in front of her, and had troopers hold the poor woman down so she could not look away.

If there was a reason for Senator Amidala to pale and feel ill, being introducedto Lord Vader was a valid reason. No one could blame her for her fear, and yet she despised herself because of it. She could have handled the Emperor killing her, could have gone out with a smile had it been Storm Troopers. But not Darth Vader. He was like a creature out of her nightmares. Her own personal demon.

As she pondered all of the horrible scenarios that could befall her soon at the hands of the evil creature, the Sith walked right past the senator and the troopers holding her, to kneel down before the Emperor, his head low. "What is thy bidding, my master?" his booming baritone filled the throne room impressively.

The Emperor smiled wider, and Padmé knew he was drinking in her fear. "Rise, my old friend. Rise! I've brought you here to introduce you to Senator Amidala."

As Vader stood, Padmé, coming out of her astonishment, suddenly realized just how big the creature actually was. He was massive! He stood at two meters tall or so, and his shoulders were impressively broad, even without the armor. As he towered over her— and everyone else for that matter— Padmé understood why so many stories and legends had so quickly surrounded the Heir to the Empire. Vader was like some sort of nightmare from the ancient times come to life with his impressive bulk and terrifying presence without adding in his strange Force powers. As he looked down at her, the senator wondered briefly if she might throw up.

"Senator Amidala," the Emperor said amiably as he stood and made his way over to his apprentice, "May I introduce you to my apprentice, Darth Vader. I'm sure you have heard of him?"

It took every ounce of control Padmé possessed to force herself to nod. "Y-yes," she only stuttered slightly. It certainly hadn't gone unnoticed, unfortunately. "I have heard of him."

"Good! Good," the Emperor cackled. "I was hoping that the two of you could become better acquainted with one another over the course of time."

Padmé gasped, gawking at Palpatine, while Vader snapped his helmeted head towards his master, but he did not say a word. "What do you mean?" the senator snarled, pushing herself forward against the hold of the troopers, yet trying not make a fool of herself. _Don't let them see anymore weakness! _she thought desperately. But what in the galaxy did he _mean_?

The old man lazily walked back to his throne and sat down, a cruel smirk still adorning his features as he stared down at his apprentice and the senator. After taking what seemed like forever to the fearful senator, Palpatine finally answered. "It seems that there are nasty rumors floating around about you, Senator. We bothknow the _truth_ about your involvement in the Rebel Alliance, but if these liesabout you get out, these _terrible_ fabrications about you being involved, well…your reputation would be ruined, wouldn't it?"

As she sneered, he went on. "I would hate to see the people turn against you, especially since we have no _proof _of any involvement you had with the rebels. So, to protect you, and to show my complete confidence in your innocence, I've decided to assign Lord Vader as your personal…attendant."

Padmé was shocked. "What?"

The Emperor chuckled. "You know, you've always been my favorite, Amidala," he mused. "Without your vote of confidence, I might have had to wait longer to become elected chancellor, and then who knows how long I would have had to wait to create the Empire?"

"You can't do this!" Padmé cried, struggling against the troopers who held her. "I've done nothing wrong! You can't threaten me!"

"Threaten you?" Palpatine's eyes widened in faux surprise and hurt. "My dear, you misunderstand. I'm assigning my apprentice to you for _your _protection and to show my support of you."

"Or to have him watch me," she growled, finally becoming still.

Although he was still smiling, the air around the Emperor seemed to change as he leaned forward, glaring down at her with those intense, angry yellow eyes. "Why does that concern you? Do you have something to hide?"

There was a time and a place for everything, every fight had to be planned out, and Padmé knew that no matter how she might struggle now, she would not win this time. Palpatine had her no matter what she might tried. He could have her killed at that very moment if he wanted to, but he must have decided that it would be better to mess with her for a little while longer instead. She hated this man, she truly did, but there was nothing she could do. No matter what she might say, how she might struggle, at the end of the day, Vader would still be assigned to watch her.

"No," she replied bitterly, holding the Emperor's gaze. "Nothing."

"Good," the old man nodded slowly before smiling once more. "I've taken the liberty of having your things moved into Lord Vader's homes."

"What?!" Padmé couldn't control the shriek that came out.

Even Vader seemed to have a hard time with this announcement. "Master?"

Palpatine continued to smile. "Word's getting around about your arrest, my dear," he purred. "Can't take the chance of having someone attack you, believing you're a traitor. I want to make sure that you're safe at all times, and what better way than to have you stay with Lord Vader to watch and _protect _you?"

Padmé fought to keep herself in control. She was between wanting to lose herself in a fit of rage and hysterics or vomiting. Neither would help, however, and so she stood there, still in the arms of the troopers, shocked and horrified into silence. Staying with Lord Vader? _Staying with Lord Vader? _What did that even mean? What did that entail? Only time would tell what would become of her.

"Now, off with you," the Emperor shooed her away with a hand, as though she was some sort of errant child. "The Storm Troopers will process you out and clear up this terrible mess. Lord Vader will collect you shortly."

_Collect_. Padmé shivered at all the implications that that could mean. What sort of _collecting _did Darth Vader do? Besides collect niches on his lightsaber belt.

There was nothing else she could do now. The Storm Troopers led her away, and began the tedious process of processing her out of the detention cell. Vader did not follow, as apparently the Emperor was giving a more detailed description of what he expected his apprentice to do while he was…entertaining the senator as his guest_. _The whole thing was completely absurd! _I'm staying with Lord Vader, _Padmé thought incredulously. Would she even survive until tomorrow?

But it was about more than just her survival now. What about the Rebel Alliance? What had become of them? She couldn't make contact with them. Not anymore. Not with Vader going to be breathing down her neck. Probably literally. Communication before had been difficult and risky. It was impossible now. She could always talk to Mon Mothma and Bail Organa when she went to the senate.

But then, how far did Vader's orders go to 'look after' her? Surely he wouldn't be expected to go with her to work…Would he? And even if he wasn't going to work with her, security for her would probably skyrocket up and she'd be watched more closely than ever before. How could she even begin to talk to Bail or Mon without being discovered?

More importantly, what would they think once they learned that she would be residing in Lord Vader's residence? Surely they would realize that something had gone very wrong. Surely they'd realize that she was being held prisoner by the Sith?

But deep down, Padmé wasn't so sure. Even if her friends in the senate knew something was up, essentially living with Darth Vader would not look good. At all. There would probably be those that would accuse her of selling out and betraying the rebellion. There would be suspicion and anger directed towards her from the Alliance as it would look like she was fraternizing with the enemy.

_Son of a nerf! _Padmé's eyes widened in realization. Of course it would look like she was consorting with the enemy! Palpatine knew that. That's why he was doing this. It wasn't _just _to keep an eye on her and to perhaps get her to crack, it was to make her look bad in the eyes of the rebels while at the same time boosting his support with the populations as it would appear as though the renowned Senator Amidala was now on friendlier terms with the Empire that she had so infamously spoken out against. The Emperor had set it all up to trap her, and she could do nothing to stop it.

_I'll think of something, _she told herself, if just to keep a little hope alive. _He might have me now, but he can't hold me! _

Padmé jumped slightly, startled when the doors suddenly burst open and the ominous black figure of Vader strode into the room. He certainly knew how to make an entrance.

Without even looking her way, the Sith commanded, "Let's go," as he continued walking. The senator was surprised, momentarily confused, before a trooper grabbed her by the upper arm and none too gently and pushed her forward after Vader. Padmé tried to shake off the rough hand, but couldn't.

It was like a death march through the halls at Vader's neck-breaking pace. Because she was so much shorter, she had to almost run to keep up, and the troopers seemed to almost jog even as the Sith continued to stalk off, unconcerned with the difficulties of the others behind him. _I'm doomed, _she couldn't help the pessimistic side of herself that came out. If it felt like he was killing her just by _walking, _what hope did she have at living with him? Whatever that entailed, anyway.

After fifteen minutes or so, they finally made it outside to the landing bay. Padmé almost cried in relief when they stopped for a moment as Vader located his personal speeder. Of course it was black, like everything else about the creature, and without a word, he jumped in, without the use of a ladder for the tall vehicle, with apparent ease. It surprised the senator a bit. Vader looked heavy, sometimes the ground seemed to shake when he would walk, but he had jumped as though he had been as light as a feather. _Must have used the Force_, she thought to herself. She'd seen Jedi do it in the past.

Thankfully, no one expected her to make such a fantastic leap, and the troopers retrieved a ladder for her to use. The other door opened, and Padmé was all but pushed inside by the Sith. She was surprised when the troopers didn't follow her up, and even more surprised when she realized that the speeder was only built for two. It was like a sports vehicle for the rich and famous to play with she realized. For some reason, she hadn't imagined Vader with anything that wasn't strictly practical.

Looking over at him warily, Padmé watched as the Sith expertly managed the controls, readjusting everything to fit his bulk, more out of habit it looked like than for the fact that it needed to be changed. "Strap in," he commanded, not bothering to look at his passenger, before the speeder suddenly leapt to life, and they were away, streaking across the sky.

A small yelp of surprise was pushed out of Padmé before she could stop it, and she quickly buckled herself in as Vader tore through the skies with reckless speed. _And so this is how it all ends_, she thought miserably as she watched the military base he called home came closer and closer into view.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A reminder, this is going to be more of an adult story, so please, if you can't handle that, please look elsewhere. If you do not like Vader acting like Vader, you might also want to look elsewhere. For those wondering, this will be a sort of version of _Beauty and the Beast_, I suppose that's so popular, though twisted and not necessarily pleasant. Don't like, don't read. Though if you can put up with some violence and mature topics, you might enjoy this.

Reviews are welcome and appreciated. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2: New Home

**Chapter Two: New Home**

_I'm going to die. _

There was simply no way she was going to make it out of this one. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Lord Vader's speeder, streaking across the sky at alarming speeds. But what made it worse than the simple speed was the fact that he seemed to be doing his very best to try and cause an accident of spectacular proportions. He would get very close to one speeder, before ducking down or swerving at the last minute to pass them by . Next he would _jump _over someone else to get in front, not even looking back while the other drivers would slam on their brakes out of sheer surprise. Did this creature _have _a death wish?

Without her leave, Padmé gripped the sides of the speeder until her knuckles turned white. She also didn't notice how she began to curl up in her seat, bringing her knees up slightly as though to protect herself should they crash as though it would help. It was the most unnerving thing she'd ever had to do, riding as a passenger in Lord Vader's speeder with him at the helm. All she could think about were what the headlines would say once they discovered the wrecked speeder and her twisted, mutilated corpse, burned to a char and pasted to the side of some building or walkway.

At last, they cleared traffic as they came to the private airspace near the military base where she would be staying. Unfortunately, Vader didn't slow down, but instead seemed to speed up as they came closer and closer to the approaching building. Padmé alternated between staring out at the looming building and Vader as they sped up. Could he not see in that helmet of his? Surely that was the only reason for this madness?

When they were almost to the hanger entrance of the base, Padmé couldn't hold her tongue anymore. She'd been literally biting it the entire ride over to stop herself from crying out, but now she just couldn't stop herself. "Slow down!" she cried, bringing her knees all the way up to her chest.

It was with the utmost horror that Padmé watched as the Sith turned his head towards her to stare instead of watching what he was doing. She paled, and could see the fear written across her face reflected in the eyes of his helmet. She couldn't look away from him and they stared at one another in silence, the only sound his breathing and the growling of the engine. Again, Padmé wondered what the headlines would say when they found her dead and burned after crashing into the side of the Imperial Military Base with the Dark Lord himself beside her. For many years to come it would surely be a great mystery as to why Senator Amidala had been riding along in Lord Vader's speeder. With her luck, however, Vader would probably survive and only she'd be killed. Maybe that was the Emperor's evil plot all along. Make it look like an accident.

But at the last minute, just before it seemed they were rushing to meet their doom, with impossible speed and precision, all the while with not turning back to look at what he was doing, the Sith dropped the speeder down and began hitting the brakes while pressing the controls to get ready for their landing. The senator gasped as they seemed to just miss hitting the top of the hanger bay entrance. Her eyes closed on their own accord, but she could feel the speeder slowing down until, blessedly, it came to a hard stop which lurched her forward in her seat. When she managed to peel open her eyes again, she found Lord Vader still staring at her, appear completely unfazed.

She was shaking a bit, but honestly, Padme didn't care. She was just glad that she was alive and not pasted to the side of the base. She stared back at Vader, who seemed frozen, his respirator still hissing steadily, even as her own breath came out in short little gasps. Padmé had never been afraid of flying before, but Force, she was when it came to this creature! She had never known anyone could fly like that before. Was this just some sort of strange torture? To scare the shit out of someone and get them to slip? The idea had merit.

It took several moments before the senator could pry her hands off of the side arm rests and flex them a few times to restore circulation. When she was able to detach herself from the speeder, she turned to look back at Vader only to find that he had gotten out of the speeder and was stalking across the hanger towards the lift door. Momentarily stunned by his rudeness— no one having treated her like this since before she was Queen of Naboo— Padmé got out of the speeder, thankful that there was a ladder by her side of the door and she wasn't shaking as bad as to be unable to walk, before literally running after the Sith, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

She made it to his side just before the door to the lift closed. He was apparently impatient to get to wherever they were going. She panted for a moment, still messing with her hair, before she scowled up at the creature in black. He towered over her and did not look at her again. His breathing continued to be the only communication between them that filled their awkward ride up into the living quarters of the base. She just hoped now that she wasn't going to be put into some prison, though she wouldn't exactly put it past this creature. He was known for his torture and not for his house parties. Briefly, she wondered if she was the first person to ever come here as Vader's 'guest' not in chains.

When the lift stopped and the door slid open, Padmé half expected to find herself in a dark depressing room filled with torture devices and cobwebs, but strangely, that was not the case. Instead, she found herself in a pretty normal, if bland, room that was probably a meeting room for generals and the like when they came to make reports to Vader. It was composed of dark greys, blacks, and whites, but overall, it was a clean, efficient looking room with a long, black glass table and black leather chairs to fit thirty or perhaps a little more. The walls were rather bare white though, with only the large window that over looked the city to relieve the dullness and a picture of the emperor on the opposite wall and a few pictures of ship designs spread out, which actually made the room look bigger somehow, though she didn't know how.

Vader was apparently not interested in showing off this room, however, as he soon began his maddeningly large strides out of the lift and towards the door on the opposite side of the room. Dutifully, Padmé followed, not knowing what else she was supposed to do. She was afraid that should she do something wrong, she would get punished sooner. Besides, the longer she was under her own power, that meant that she could think and map out possible escape routes. It was her main objective at the moment to memorize all that she could about this place and survive. The information might serve the Alliance one day.

The hallway was designed similarly to the meeting room, plain and clinical looking like some sort of creepy hospital. It almost looked empty like no one had moved in yet and truly showed off how new it, and in return the Empire, really was. But there were no real pictures anywhere, however, except an occasional of the Emperor, as though it was mandatory to have one every so often, and of course, the Imperial logo. Vader didn't leave her much time to look around, however, as he swept through the base with frightening speed across the shining white polished floor, and she noted how others in the building made sure to clear the way when they saw the Sith coming towards them.

At last, after twisting and turning through hallway after hallway—Padmé suspecting that the Sith was trying to get her lost on purpose— they came to a lift that they took up that finally brought them to what Padmé suspected was Vader's personal wing considering the lack of anyone or anything. There was a large picture window that opened up to a balcony as soon as they stepped out of the lift at one side as if the night life of Coruscant was displayed just for Vader before there were a line of rooms all with unmarked doors. It appeared to be like every other hallway she'd seen thus far, with the exception that there was finally a dead end straight ahead. All the way at the end was a large black door that looked heavily secured. There was no one on this level, not even a droid, and knew that this had to be their destination. They walked to about the middle of the many doors before Vader finally came to a halt.

"You may eat in this room," he pointed with one massive gloved hand towards the left to one of the unmarked doors. "Your room is just there," he pointed to the right. "If you should need anything, ask a droid." As if anticipating its master's word, a golden protocol droid appeared beside the Sith from out of Padmé's supposed room. "Do not attempt to enter that door," Vader pointed to the largest door at the far end. "You would not find it a pleasant experience."

_Is he threatening me? _She thought uncomfortably.

"You have full reign of this wing," he continued, surprising the senator greatly. "There are holocams in every room here, as well as the rest of the base, and you will be monitored at all times. However," a menacing bite came into his voice. Unconsciously, Padmé recoiled from him. "—you will find that my speeders can only be accessed with my own personal codes and the doors to the lower levels always remained locked and guarded by Storm Troopers. The only way out is through speeder or having the proper identification or pass to get through the check points."

"So I am a prisoner," Padmé muttered with a scowl, not sure how she should feel exactly at the moment.

"If that is how you wish to look at it," Vader replied dispassionately. "Stay out of my way. I do not care much what you do."

As he turned to leave her, Padmé suddenly felt a thrill of panic rush through her. "Wait!" For whatever reason, she didn't like the idea of the Sith leaving. At least having Vader there with her she knew where he was and what he was doing which saved her the worry of wondering what he was planning and what he was going to do to her. When the Emperor's Shadow paused, Padmé had to think fast to come up with something reasonable to detain the Sith. Everyone knew of his infamous impatience. "Y-you said that there are holocams everywhere?" It was one of the few things she could still remember from the hasty speech.

"That is correct."

"Even in my room?"

"Correct."

Padmé scowled. "Not in the 'fresher though, right?"

"Everywhere," Vader replied, sounding almost bored.

"That's unacceptable!" she shrieked, glaring up at him. "I will _not _have cams there while I'm bathing and changing! That's disgusting and perverted!"

The Dark Lord took a menacing step forward, and only then did Padmé truly remember her position. She had _no _room to argue, and yet here she was. She never really was good at keeping quiet like this. "A droid will be monitoring your activities. I neither have the time nor the inclination to watch you, Senator," he spat. Padmé wasn't sure, but she believed she was more insulted than relieved.

"That doesn't mean that one of the other servants or personnel won't walk into the observation room for a show," she snapped, posting her hands on her hips. Where she kept getting this audacity from, she'd never know. Maybe someday she'd live long enough to regret it.

"There _is _no one else here in my personal wing, Senator," Vader snapped, his patience having finally come to an end. Padmé could literally feel it. "I keep only droids."

Her own anger stalled. "Oh."

Well, she really shouldn't be that surprise. After all, no one knew what Vader really was. Rumor had it that he was probably just a droid himself, though Padmé was more prone to think that he might be some sort of cyborg. How else was it that he was able to possess Force powers? Droids couldn't have the Force, only living things. And they didn't need a respirator either. But that still didn't clear up the question of what sort of species the Sith was. He was so tall that most believed he couldn't be human despite all of the Emperor's pro-human campaigns. Vader was probably just a puppet in that too. But the Emperor, although he didn't come right out and say it, seemed to be making an orderly galaxy for _humans_. Would Vader really follow Palpatine if he _wasn't _human?

But she could think of that later. At the moment, Padmé found herself face to chest plate with the Sith, and she couldn't bring herself to stare into his masked visage. What was he hiding under there? Was he some sort of species that couldn't handle the oxygen environment and the common atmosphere or had he been in some sort of accident? She didn't know and at the moment she didn't care. All she wanted to do was get out of here and go back to her apartment.

"How long will I be staying here?" she asked quietly.

"As long as need be."

"And how long is that?" she pushed, staring down at her reflection from the floor.

Padmé was shocked with a gloved hand came to rest under her chin, forcing her to look up. She was disgusted, terrified, and furious that the Sith dare touch her, but what could she do? Darth Vader could kill her with a thought and he was certainly bigger and stronger than her besides. If he wanted to touch her, he would, and it sickened Padmé to think about.

"If you are a good little girl," Vader rumbled, "perhaps only several years. If not, then expect forever."

"Forever?!" The senator stepped back, out of his touch, appalled. "Y-you can't keep me locked away here forever! I have work to do! I-I didn't even do anything! When the senate finds ou—"

"Don't take me for a fool!" Vader's sudden explosion of anger caught the senator off guard, and she was once again reminded of at whose mercy she found herself under. "We both know that you're hiding your involvement in the Rebel Alliance, and the moment you slip," he lowered his voice into a deathly calm, stabbing a finger out at her, "you will be dragged to the prison to be interrogated, and I'll see to it personally how long it takes you before you scream."

Again, without her leave, Padmé shivered in dread, and she couldn't stop shaking. Vader was dispassionate towards her plight, however, and turned to stalk away down the hall and into the room that he had instructed her not to go. She didn't dare follow, didn't dare speak up again. She'd pushed her luck as far as it went today. Even she knew that. Part of staying alive here meant knowing just how far she could push the Sith, and it was apparently not very.

Tears suddenly burned her eyes, but Padmé refused to let them fall. There were stories on Naboo about ancient days when young virgins had to be sacrificed to evil monsters, spirited away to their lairs, never to be seen or heard from again. No one had ever bothered to write about what happened to those poor girls once they entered the demon's liar. It was assumed that they were tortured before killed and devoured. Looking around her, in this dark place, where she was beginning to _feel _the evil permeating in the air, Padmé couldn't help but believe that she would find out just how the virgins' stories ended even after the books had closed.

She was about to just sit down on the floor and try not to hyperventilate, when suddenly the golden protocol droid that had remained silent came shuffling forward in front of her. "Hello, milady," it said in an oddly precocious manner. "I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations."

It was so polite, so academic sounding that Padmé could do little but blink. "Hi."

"And who might you be, milady?"

Padmé stood a moment, pondering how such a polite device had managed to survive here in the military base and in service to Lord Vader's personal wing, no less. "I'm Senator Amidala," she introduced herself halfheartedly.

"I see, Mistress Amidala," 3PO bowed slightly. "I have been instructed by my master to assist you to the best of my abilities. How might I serve you?"

This was…weird. Anything that belonged to or worked for Lord Vader was not supposed to be this well-mannered. Such droids were programmed to make beings as comfortable as possible, doing any sort of tasks that might be too laborious or bothersome. It just didn't sit right with Padmé that one of _Vader's _droids was being so gracious to her. It…just wasn't right. Not here. Not within the most evil place she could think of.

"Umm…" she bit her lip, the tears in her eyes already starting to disappear. "C-could you show me which one is my room?" she asked. "He—Lord Vader—said it was right through here?"

"Oh yes, Mistress Amidala!" the droid exclaimed in apparent delight. "I was ordered to prepare it myself for your use. Please, follow me."

The senator found herself following the golden machine into the room that Vader had only vaguely pointed towards. It was large, she was a bit surprised to see, with no bars on the windows, nor chains laying around. There were no cobwebs and no dust. It was an ordinary, if plain, bedroom. The walls were pure white and the floors were the same clean black from out in the hall. The curtains were a pitch black satin, while there was a matching black bedspread. The bed was actually quite large and comfortable looking with big fluffy pillows. There were black glass side tables and the closet doors were the same black as the floor. Behind another door, she could just make out, was the fresher, designed similarly to the rest of the room. It was all so spotlessly clean and militaristic, being at the same time everything and nothing at all to what Padmé thought the home of Vader would look like.

"Your things were brought by earlier, milady," 3PO explained, still standing beside the door. "I took the liberty of putting them away for you."

"O-okay."

"Is there anything else you desire, milady?"

This was just too unreal. "No. Thank you, Threepio."

The droid bowed slightly again before shuffling towards the door. "If you should need anything at all, milady, I am yours to command."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Padmé feeling more confused than she ever had been in her life. She plopped down on the bed to find that it was indeed as comfortable as it looked. Unreal.

She was here, in Darth Vader's personal wing within the Imperial Military Base, sitting on a comfortable bed, in a clean and efficient looking bedroom, with free range of the entire upper portion of the base, with her own personal droid to tend to her. This could not be real. This had to be a dream. There was just _no way _that a Sith Lord would be courteous enough and be polite to entertain a guest even a fraction as to what he was now. Especially one that he _knew _had connections with his enemies. This had to be some sort of trap, to lower her guard. But it wouldn't work. No, she knew how the game was played, and she'd be damned before she let Vader or Palpatine get the better of her.

Lying back on her bed, the senator closed her eyes and just took a moment to breathe and collect herself. She had to think, think of a plan to get out of here, to get back to the Alliance, to get away from Vader. But first, she needed to rest. She'd had a busy day, one filled with much stress and surprises. After that she could plan. And she would. She just needed to close her eyes…

**oOoOoOo**

Despite his earlier claims, Vader found himself in the control room attached to his personal chambers, watching the cam in the senator's bedroom. He had listened to the exchange between C-3PO and the senator, and had studied the woman's face extensively. She was wary, skeptical of the considerations being shown to her while a virtual prisoner in his home. Vader wasn't surprised. He would be too if he were in her position. Sidious railed on about the girl's naïve nature and how they could lull her into false security, but the younger Sith couldn't help but be doubtful. The senator was willing to give beings the benefit of the doubt perhaps, but she was not stupid. It was perfectly clear to Vader that the senator was already on to Sidious's plot to get her to drop her guard and make a slip. It didn't take a genius, actually. It made him wonder if his own master was slipping.

_This is not going to work,_ Vader thought as he sat back in his chair. His master was a fool for expecting the girl to just relax and give up all that she knew. While not the most politically minded, Vader still did not understand why his master hadn't just allowed him to torture information out of her. Surely it would be easier than this whole convoluted plan about getting her make a mistake and say the wrong thing or—Force forbid—_trust _them. The senator had a strong mind, that the Sith could not deny, but it could not stand up to his powers when he was intent on gaining information. Vader had run across Jedi, beings with vast mental training, and torn their minds to shreds within minutes. Senator Amidala didn't stand a chance against him and his torture techniques.

So why play this game? Was this some sort of test?

Vader scowled at the thought. He didn't like being tested by his master. Not like this. It was insulting and a complete waste of time. Surely he'd proven himself by now? He'd thought destroying the Jedi Order had done that. Surely his master knew that he was a fully-fledged Sith? He had been for years! So why have him dance around the senator, wasting time? It just didn't make sense.

It was clear that after a few minutes the girl was asleep. Only then did Vader relax himself. He almost smirked when he recalled how frightened she'd been of his driving. It had clearly worn her out. It had not been his aim to scare her, he'd simply been impatient to get back home and get work done, but it was certainly a bonus to watch her curl up into a tiny ball. He hadn't really believed it when he'd seen it, the Great Senator Amidala curled up like an infant. Hilarious. Who would have thought she didn't like flying?

But he could not waste time sitting here when there was work to be done. Especially if his mind was wondering useless to such topics as the senator. No, he had work to do. Battle plans to finalize. There was no time for thinking about the tiny woman that was just several doors down from him.

Standing, Vader stalked out of his chambers, making sure they were locked securely, before he made his way towards the lift. He had orders to give before there were several meetings with generals. When he made his way down to the lower levels, to where the offices were, he searched out his personal assistant. The young man was usually a very nervous, fidgety sort of fellow, but he got the job done efficiently, and that was all Vader could have asked for.

"Lieutenant Pilor," he snapped.

Almost instantly, the lieutenant seemed to materialize before him, doing his best not to look as terrified as Vader sensed him to be. "My lord."

Turning towards his assistant, the Sith wasted no time before making known his requests. "Lieutenant, I am hosting a special guest in my personal wing," he began, ignoring the surprise that passed over the other man's face. "Senator Amidala of Naboo will be staying with us for an indeterminable amount of time."

"Yes, my lord." Pilor might have been easy to read, but he thankfully was not one that questioned orders or voiced his shock or inner musings. It would be a shame for Vader to lose his temper and kill the man.

"See to it that if she leave my personal wing that she is monitored and has armed escorts so that she does not get into anything she should not."

"Yes, my lord. I shall send notice to all troopers and personnel."

"Good." Vader paused another moment. "And be sure to watch all exit points and my hanger more closely. She is not to leave this base unless I or anyone I give specific permission to takes her."

"Of course, my lord. Is there anything else, Sir?"

Pilor was certainly a rare one. The man was certainly an asset and had thus far only ever managed to annoy Vader every so often. That was better than his last P.A. who met an unfortunate end when he had not done his work adequately, causing Vader's entire schedule to become backed up and wasted his time. This lieutenant was quick, obedient, and intelligent enough to ask all the right questions at all the right times. It was refreshing.

So, Vader thought a moment over the question, before looping his fingers into his belt. "Yes," he said at last. "Be sure that when you alert personnel to her existence, it is understood that her presence must be kept quiet. The Emperor would be most displeased should everyone find out she is staying with us too soon. If any word gets out and I find that it was someone in this building, I will personally see to their punishment. Is that understood?"

The lieutenant lost a shade or two of color, but nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord. I will see to it immediately."

"Good."

Vader turned, leaving his P.A to carry out his orders as he went to his meeting with several generals about the war that had broken out among a few mid-rim worlds. The Sith had never understood rebels before, and he could not fathom why they resisted the Empire. Were they so barbaric that they preferred the chaos and uncertainty of governing themselves over the security and order of the Empire? Animals. All of them.

And so, for the next several hours, Vader turned his full attention towards maintaining and protecting the Empire he and his master had created. Not once did he think back to the woman that was left sleeping in his personal wing, nor of how much his life could change because of her.

* * *

**Author's Note: **If you're curious as to C-3PO or why Vader wears the mask, please be patient. All will be explained.

Also, if there is weird spacing or lack there of, please forgive me. When I upload, the cite apparently likes to mess it up for whatever reason.

Reviews are welcomed and encouraged. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3: Trapped

**Chapter Three: Trapped**

The next morning Padmé had the displeasure of peeling open her eyes to find that the sun was shining in them annoyingly. As she sat up, she felt her head spin slightly, causing her feel more disoriented than she already was. She didn't remember going to bed last night and she felt disgusting. Looking down, she saw she was still wearing her clothes from the day before. That explained some of it.

Padmé sat straight up when she noticed she was not in her own room. This room was completely neutral and sterile. Events from the day before came rushing back to her, and for a moment, she thought maybe she was in some sort of prison or holding cell. No, she remembered she was somewhere far worse. This was not the normal prison. This room was in Darth Vader's personal wing at the Imperial Military Base. By order of the Emperor himself, she was to stay here as the _personal guest _of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy_._

A moment later saw her staggering to the fresher, desperately trying not to become ill at the thought of her imprisonment. How could this have happened? Staring at herself in the mirror, the senator realized she'd gone completely pale and despite having slept longer than usual, she had bags under her eyes. Obviously, even though she did not remember them wholly, she hadn't had pleasant dreams and the events of the previous day had really taken a toll on her more than she had previously thought.

Sighing, she walked back out into the bedroom glaring down at her reflection from the floor. As explained last night, a lot of her wardrobe was in the closet here, though Padmé noted in slight distress, though not everything she owned had been brought over. She hoped they hadn't gotten rid of it. While she would not consider herself a particularly vain being, she did admit that her one true weakness was her wardrobe. If she never saw the rest of her clothes again that was fine, but her only hope was that they hadn't destroyed any of it.

But she could not dwell on the negative or she would be here all day without having gotten a thing accomplished…other than cursing the Empire and its leaders. Right now she had to rally her spirits. She tried to tell herself that prison would've been so much worse than this and that she was lucky she was apparently so important that the Emperor couldn't just get rid of her like he could so many others he had in the past. At least she was still able to go to work, and was able to have some of her clothes.

Focusing on the positive was starting to annoy Padmé, so she decided to just grab a dress and some of her other dressings and lock herself in the fresher to get ready for the day. When everything was collected and locked herself in, she suddenly remembering her conversation with Lord Vader the previous night. There were cams everywhere, even in _here. _The thought still sickened her, infuriated her, but she had to trust that what the Sith had said was correct ad that only a droid was monitoring her. She immediately snorted at the thought, however. _Trust _Lord Vader? Not in this or any other universe.

So, making sure there was a towel waiting for her, Padmé stripped down quickly and jumped into the shower. The water was blessedly warm, and thankfully all of her soaps had been brought from home and were arranged similarly to how she had had them, so she didn't have to hunt for anything too extensively. That droid really had gone through a lot of trouble to make her feel more at home here despite that being an impossible task.

As the warm water pelted her gently, the senator stood under the spray, her mind running through everything that could possibly happen to her now while her body was on automatic. The Emperor had made it sound yesterday like Vader would be following her around from now on. But how could that be possible? Everyone knew that Darth Vader was probably the busiest being in the galaxy, even more so than the Emperor himself! The masked Sith was the spearhead of the Imperial Navy and Army more often than not. Vader oversaw battle preparations, commanded troops, helped plan alongside the Emperor on how to rule the galaxy. Vader had a real hand in pretty much everything there was to do in the Empire, surely he would be too busy to follow her around all the time? Why, she'd heard rumors from several officers in the navy that Vader would call regularly throughout the early hours of the morning to talk about work, meaning he didn't sleep regularly. If he was so busy he could barely take time to rest, _how _could he follow her around?

This was more confusing than it should have been. When the shower was turned off and she had rung out her hair, Padmé stuck out an arm, groping for her towel. She wrapped it around herself before she got out. It was an entirely awkward affair to try and get her undergarments on while still keeping the towel up as a shield. It bored on ridiculous, but she refused to give anyone or anything a show. It became apparent, though, that she couldn't get into her dress and still hold the towel. She was going to have to let it go. A disturbing thought, but at least the most important parts were covered. So, taking a deep breath, she dropped the towel while simultaneously grabbing and slipping her dress on over her head. After a few minutes of struggling to get the heavy garment on, she was fully covered.

This was too much work just to change. It tired just as much as it angered Padmé to be reduced to this. But still, if it meant that no Imperial dogs would see her, then it might be worth it. She didn't trust Vader any farther than she could throw him, and she had the disturbing worry that some sort of officer would walk into the controls room and see her. It was humiliating and violating.

But she didn't want to think about that. Grabbing her comb, she began the laborious task of doing her hair. After about five minutes or so of combing, she sat down on the bed, about ready to call out to Dormé only to come to the horrible realization that her handmaiden wasn't here. What had happened to the other woman? Had she been imprisoned? Was she all right? Yet another reason why she could easily slip into despair.

That wouldn't get her anywhere either, nor would it help her friend. So instead, the senator began drying her hair herself, and tried to remember how her friend always managed to do her hair so well. It had literally been a decade since Padmé had had to do her own hair and go out into society. She had so much thick hair that for a moment she wondered how she was ever going to look decent again if it was her doing it. Maybe this was how she could rescue her friend. Maybe she could plead to Lord Vader and ask him to bring Dormé here with her. At least then she wouldn't be so lonely, and she could have someone to talk to. She doubted anyone else in the base would so much as glance at her if they knew the exact reasons for her stay.

Eventually she decided to just leave her hair down, only trying the sides back so that it was out of her face. She was almost finished with her makeup when the door com sounded. It startled the senator a moment before she rose and answered it. She immediately wished she hadn't.

Vader stood on the other side, his arms crossed over his chest severely. The first thing out of his mouth was not the typical "Good morning," but a rather impatient, "Are you ready yet?"

Normally if someone had spoken to her in such a rude tone, the former queen might have reprimanded them, perhaps even remind them of just to whom they were speaking to. But she had the sinking feeling that connections or lineage wouldn't matter much to the creature before her. He was obviously not in a good mood…not that she thought he could be in one, but he was certainly in a mood where she believed she couldn't push her luck as she had the previous night. He'd been tame yesterday in comparison to this, she could _feel _it, so it was best to just leave it be.

"N-nearly," she nodded. She hated how badly he could scare her just by standing there. It wasn't really her fault, though. When one could feel the hate and angry rolling off of him, as if it was somehow tangible, fear was a perfectly natural response.

When he continued to stare at her, Padmé realized he was expecting her to finish. And quickly. So she would oblige.

Turning back to her room, she rushed to the fresher and began finishing up her makeup. After another couple minutes, she returned into the bedroom and found the door still open and Vader's bulk filling it, looking exactly as he had before. Obviously he didn't believe in privacy…though that had been established right at the start last night. She scowled at him, but it didn't faze him. Not that she thought it would.

"Let's go," he commanded, turning from the doorway.

Padmé glared after him, but rushed to catch up. She supposed that she didn't have to worry about locking the door. She doubted anyone would come up to Lord Vader's wing at all, let alone steal anything from it. Not unless they wanted to die a horrible, painful death at the hands of the monster himself.

When they reached the lift, Padmé was distressed to find that the Sith took up most of the room. She hadn't noticed this last evening. Apparently he was the only one that used this particular one, since it was to his wing. She was forced to stand closer to him than she would have liked, nearly touching him. The awkwardness was probably only on her side, but she had to fight hard not to squirm or simply fall over dead from it.

When they reached a public floor, he began his mad dash across the base, Padmé having to follow him at a jog. She was annoyed that she had to rush. It certainly didn't do anything for her regal image that she'd worked so hard to manage. But she tried her best, and kept an air of authority about her, which didn't seem to go unnoticed by several personnel who stared at her oddly. Apparently they never though they'd see the famous Senator Amidala and the infamous Darth Vader together.

As they were walking to who knew where, a young man came rushing up beside the Sith, pad in hand and pen at the ready. "My lord," he began, not sparing Padmé a single glance. "I have rearranged everything you had asked, but I am having trouble with the meeting with Admiral Yimano."

"Yimano is a fool," Vader snapped. "Have him send his report to spare me the tediousness of his presentation."

The senator was momentarily taken back by the abuse directed at the absent admiral, but then again, she knew she shouldn't be. This was Darth Vader, after all. It was just strange, though. She'd never thought he would be so readily insulting towards someone who obviously held the Empire in such high esteem, especially in front of her. For whatever reason she'd always imagined that Imperials stuck to Imperials closely. Apparently Vader didn't stick to anyone closely.

The young officer, again, didn't seem fazed and merely nodded as he wrote something down. "Very good, my lord. Is there anything else you would require?"

"You have your instructions," Vader said simply. "Should anything change, com me immediately."

"Yes, my lord," the lieutenant bowed his head slightly before dropping back and allowing them to pass by. It was only then that he looked at Padmé. Strangely enough, she found a slight expression of pity on his face before he turned and strode away to supposedly do as the Sith had commanded. Unsurprisingly, she didn't feel any better than when she'd woken.

Finally, however, after more walking, turning, and staring, they made it to the hanger. The day before Padmé had been recovering from her trauma over the flight and had not noticed much about it. Now that she did, however, she realized just how massive it was. There were ships of all different shapes and sizes parked all around. She wasn't really a ship or speeder enthusiast, but she was fairly certain that if she were, this would have been paradise. This was obviously Vader's personal hanger, and she was surprised to see the collection he had amassed from all across the galaxy. He was apparently a speed fanatic, which explained his horrifying piloting yesterday.

Realizing this, Padmé stopped dead when they exited the lift. It took only a second for Vader to realize she wasn't trailing behind him anymore. When he looked back at her, she shook her head. "I'm not getting in anything with you at the controls."

If he was angry or not, she couldn't tell, but she did ready herself for anything when he came striding back to her. Instead of yelling as she would have thought, he grabbed her by the upper arm in a tight grip and began dragging her forward. It was the ultimate indignity, especially with troopers and mechanics staring at them, but Padmé couldn't free herself, and so had to suffer.

Thankfully today Vader chose a speeder with a roof and ramp. He pushed Padmé in, and she noted it was a standard issued Imperial speeder. Nothing fancy. She wondered why. Maybe he was afraid that she'd vomit in one of his nicer speeders like she almost had yesterday. The thought annoyed her more than relieved her. It wasn't her fault! If he hadn't been driving like a maniac—

"I would keep your thoughts quieter if I were you, Senator."

Padmé jumped, spinning around in the passenger seat to stare at the Sith. "W-what?"

Although she had never thought it was possible, Vader seemed….amused. "Your anger is projecting your thoughts rather loudly. I can hear what you're thinking."

The senator paled. "You can read minds?"

"Yes."

Silence enveloped them as Vader began the warm up sequence for the speeder, before Padmé finally found the courage to speak. "Have you been listening to them the whole time?"

"No," he replied shortly. "I can only hear them if I actively seek to or if someone's emotions are particularly strong. And only then if they have a strong presence in the Force."

The senator almost scoffed. "Are you trying to tell me I'm like a Jedi?"

"If you were like a Jedi," Vader began calmly. "I would have killed you instantly." Padmé blanched at the thought. "Every creature has a Force presence," Vader continued to explain as he lifted the speeder into the air. "The intensity of the sensitivity is what can give a being powers such as the Sith or the former Jedi."

Well. An education on the Force was certainly not what Padmé had been expecting to receive this morning, especially from Lord Vader. It had almost been a civil conversation, despite how creeped out she was at the fact that he could listen to her thoughts. She'd been around Jedi enough in her younger years, but never once had one complained about her thoughts being too loud. She hadn't really believed that that sort of power had been real. Apparently she'd been wrong.

With nothing else to say or do, the rest of the speeder trip was ridden in silence. Vader still drove like a speed-fiend, but it wasn't as bad as the day before. Apparently the Sith was impatient when it came to doing pretty much anything, she was discovering. If they paused for only a moment in traffic, Vader would simply fly in restricted air space and zoom forward as though nothing was amiss. Several times Padmé thought she saw air security chase after them or take pictures, but that didn't seem to bother the Sith. He was second only to the Emperor himself. He apparently didn't worry about trivial things like traffic violations.

At last, when they made it to the Senate building, Padmé was pleased that she hadn't curled up into a ball this time. The only sign of her nervousness were her nails digging into the armrests. But that was a vast improvement from the other day.

True to his disregard for everyone else, Vader parked in Senator Villius's space, and turned off the speeder before she could have protested. It was probably best not to say anything anyway. Again, Padmé could sense the Sith's darkening mood. He didn't like the senate. She'd forgotten about all the rumors surrounding Vader's notorious hatred for politicians. This assignment to watch her, she realized, was probably just as much of a disturbance and annoyance to him as it was to her. The thought made her feel a little bit better.

As they disembarked from the speeder, security came rushing over, probably to tell them that they'd parked in the wrong place. But the moment they saw Vader, they stopped cold and saluted. The Sith didn't bother to even look at them as he stalked forward towards the building. Padmé once more followed behind, feeling much like a child forced to trail behind a parent. It was a feeling she hadn't had since she was around thirteen. Very disconcerting.

When they made it inside, however, Padmé decided that enough was enough. The military base might have been Vader's domain, but this was _hers_. Instead, she rushed to get in front of the creature in black, cutting him off, before taking the lead and controlling the pace. She wondered if he was shocked or annoyed, but she didn't really care at the moment.

Surprisingly, however, Vader followed along with her little plan, but instead of following her, he stepped up beside her. Equals then. She could accept that. They were almost to her office, when she saw Bail Organa and Mon Mothma standing to the side. The moment they laid eyes on her, it was clear that they were worried.

"I have business," she muttered to her captor, before walking over to her friends.

When she reached them, she smiled reassuringly. "Good morning," she spoke casually. "How are you?"

The other two senators stared at her for a moment, before Bail smiled back. "Well. We, ah, heard talk that you had…well, that there had been some sort of…misunderstanding yesterday."

So they had heard. She was about to reassure them, to try and tell them what happened , when the chilling sound of a respirator filled the air. Without her leave, the young woman's eyes slid shut in frustrated defeat. She couldn't say anything. Not with _him _here. Not even to tell her friends that she was all right and that everything was safe.

"Lord Vader," Mon was the first to recover. "Good morning, Sir. What brings you here to the senate so early in the morning?"

The Sith didn't bother to reply. Instead, he stared at the three senators for just a second, before grabbing Padmé by the arm, dragging her away. It hurt. She struggled with him for a moment, only to stop once she realized they were being stared at by other people. She debated with herself about which looked worse, being dragged by Lord Vader quietly, or struggling with him until he lost his temper and either Force choked her or threw her kicking and screaming over his shoulder. Neither sounded too appealing, but before she could decide, they were outside her office suite.

Without touching them, Vader caused the doors to burst open. All around, startled Naboo delegates looked up to find their senator being pulled in by the infamous Sith Lord. Several cried out in alarm and protest, but that didn't stop Vader. Instead, the creature managed to get all the way to the other side of the room, to her office doors, before he finally came to a stop. He ripped open the door with the Force and shoved her in roughly. Padmé stumbled forward, unused to such treatment, and she tripped over her long dress. When the door slammed shut and all she could hear was that infernal respirator, she knew she was trapped.

When she had steadied herself, she turned and almost ran into the chest of the Sith. How had he gotten beside her so quickly? She was about to protest to his treatment, when his hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck. Padmé's eyes went wide in terror. She began trembling, but didn't say a word.

"I have questions, your highness," the Sith growled. "And you will answer them."

She couldn't even nod her consent, but Vader must have realized she was agreeing with him. Unfortunately, he didn't let go of her throat. He had her trapped.

"What are Senators Organa and Mothma to you?" he demanded.

Padmé was almost afraid to speak, but realized that he wasn't really choking her, just applying enough pressure to remind her that he could. Very easily. "Th-they're friends," she said simply.

"What kind of friends?"

A sarcastic remark might have come before, but not now, not with this creature. One wrong word and he could easily kill her. "Just friends. O-our planets have similar agendas."

"_Rebellious_ similarities?" He applied more pressure.

How could she have been so stupid? Going to Bail and Mon with Vader right behind her was like rushing off to the Rebel Base knowing she had a tracking devise on her ship. She'd been so relieved to see them, and had wanted to tell them she was all right, that she hadn't thought about how it might look. How could she have been so stupid?!

"No," she croaked as he began putting more pressure on her throat when she didn't answer immediately. "J-just friends…I wanted to…to tell them I was…okay."

"Any why would they think you were not 'okay'?" He squeezed tighter.

Tears sprang up in her eyes. Was she really going to die like this? Funny, yesterday she hadn't been afraid to die. But perhaps it was the presence of the Sith Lord that made the fear come alive. She could feel his anger, his hate, and to stare into those pitiless black sockets that reflected her horror and pain was too much. She'd been ready yesterday, she wasn't today. And now she had possibly condemned her friends as well.

"W-word...gets…out," she gasped, finally raising her hands to grip at his much larger one in the vain hope that she could make him let her go. "Emper-or said…word gets…out." Her vision was beginning to darken around the edges, and just when she thought she was going to pass out, Vader let go.

Padmé gasped for air just as she collapsed to the floor, her legs weak. She spent several moments just gasping, gently touching her neck, as though to protect it, before she looked up at the creature standing over her with tears now readily streaming from her eyes. He stared down at her for a moment, not a trace of remorse evident, before he turned and strode from the room.

The doors once more burst open and he strode out with his insanely large stride, leaving Padmé shaking as she sat on the floor, watching him. All the others were watching with wide eyes as the Sith retreated, before they all turned back towards the office he had just evacuated. The instant they saw the senator on the ground, they all began rushing forward.

In the front were Dormé and Jar Jar, who were beside her in an instant, kneeling down next to her. "My lady!" Dormé cried.

"Are yousa okiee-day?" the Gungan asked full of concern.

Seeing their genuine panic and worry was just too much. Padmé now felt so cold after coming into such close proximity to the Sith, to death, that now that she could clearly recall what warmth felt like, she broke. Would she ever feel such love again? She began sobbing and buried her face into Dormé's shoulder, hugging her helplessly. Jar Jar began to rub her back, even as her handmaiden stroked her hair.

"Shh, it's all right," Dormé cooed. "He's gone. He can't hurt you now."

Oh, if only they knew. He _could _hurt her, now and later. He had retreated for a moment, but he would be back. She was trapped, trapped in the world of the Sith, and she couldn't get out. She couldn't get out. The thought caused her to cry harder. When was the last time she'd cried? It must have been years and years.

Vaguely she wondered if she should get used to this as she didn't try to stop the tears.

**oOoOoOo**

A few hours later saw the return of the Sith Lord. Everyone in the office suite froze upon his arrival. Padmé, who had left her office doors open, watching blankly as he strode in, not bothering to move from her seated position. If he wanted her to stand, he could certainly make her.

Instead of barking out orders or making threats, Vader strode back into her office and stood before her desk. He turned his masked gaze towards Dormé and Jar Jar, who had stayed near since Vader's last appearance. "Get. Out," he snarled.

Despite his loyalty, Jar Jar was an easily startled, scared individual, and the moment the Sith had turned his helmeted head towards the Gungan, Jar Jar was already scrambling to his feet to get away. He didn't have to be told twice. Dormé, however, was a bit more stubborn than that, and was especially unwilling to leave her mistress's side considering what had happened not too long ago.

The handmaiden scowled as she stood and stepped towards the Sith, her expression giving away her anger. "How dare you—"

But by then, Vader was already raising his hand in a clasping gesture. Padmé had heard enough rumors to know what it meant and couldn't stand the thought of her friend dying because Vader wasn't in a good mood. "Dormé!" she cried, standing as well. The handmaiden trailed off, turning a concerned gaze upon her mistress. "Dormé," Padmé began again, more calmly this time. "Why don't you go see to those reports I asked about a while ago."

The other woman looked extremely reluctant to leave her mistress, but at Padmé insistent gaze, she finally nodded. "Yes, milady," she bowed before walking out.

The moment her feet passed through the threshold, Vader slammed the doors closed behind her. Padmé made sure to keep her expression blank. This monster had already scared her, he couldn't do much more than he already had. At least not in the way that would reduce her to a sobbing mess again. Last time she hadn't been ready. She was ready this time.

"Lord Vader," she said evenly as a way of opening.

He didn't need much more prompting. "It appears that word of your arrest reached the senate last evening," he began, looping his thumbs in his belt. "I have corrected the reports and informed all that your arrest was the result of a rebel attempt to get rid of you and that you were merely taken into protective custody and were not arrested at all."

"'Protective custody'," she couldn't help the incredulous tone that came out. Is that what he thought this was? After he had nearly choked her to death? Did he not see the bruises around her neck from his hand?

Vader ignored it. "Your personnel will forget what they saw this morning," he continued as though nothing had happened. "I will see to that." She paled at the thought. "You will remain here as I see to it."

Once more Padmé felt cold. She really was trapped. Perhaps she'd been in shock before, but now it was all too real. Vader was a monster, and he was going to see to his master's plan even if he had to kill everyone else in order to do it. She was trapped, and she couldn't get out.

"Very well," she said instead, keeping her face blank, despite the turbulent feelings she had on the inside. "But only if I have your word that none of them will be harmed in any way."

The Sith was still for a moment, as though contemplating, before he finally responded. "It is curious that you believe you have any power in this arrangement."

Padmé felt ill. "Then let me beg," she said instead. "Please don't hurt them."

Vader didn't reply as he left the room, closing the doors behind him as he carried out his business. The moment the doors were closed, the young senator sank back into her chair, resting her head in her hands as despair threatened to overtake her again. She couldn't do this. It was all too much to bear.

Looking out the window, watching the speeders flying free across the Coruscant skies, Padmé wished that she could be as free. She wished for a moment that she didn't have to care, didn't have to worry about everyone else. For just one moment, she wished she believed the lies told by the Emperor and Vader. She wished she could just support them and their tyrannical rule so that she didn't have to fight all the time. After so long of doing what was right, even when it was nearly impossible, Padmé found that she was tired. She was tired and she just wanted to escape. She wanted freedom from everything, to perhaps just run away and walk the skies and never have to come down.

But that was not going to happen now.

* * *

**Author's Note: **If you wanted love at first sight, I'm sorry, I don't really believe in that. Attraction, yes. Lust, sure. Not love. The love at first sight thing is for really naïve and innocent sorts of people (little Ani) at least in my opinion. Real love is much more, so Vader and Padmé have their work cut out for them.

Again, reviews are welcomed and appreciated. Thanks to all my anonymous reviews and signed in reviews alike!


	4. Chapter 4: Transitions

**Chapter Four: Transitions**

For a week Padmé had lived under the shadow of Darth Vader. Every morning he was there outside her door, waiting. Then he would escort her to the hanger, fly her to the senate, see that she made it to her office, before storming off, usually leaving only Storm Trooper or other guard with her. At lunch, he would return, monitoring her, keeping her separated from everyone else as she ate in her office, before leaving once more when she was finished. After work, he was there, waiting, and dragged her back to the base before leaving her to her own devices in her room. During that whole course of the day, she barely spoke to a soul. She took meals in her room, not wanting to go into the room he'd indicated for her to use for dinner. She didn't want to risk seeing him more than she had to.

Trapped.

That was the only word to describe her life now. She was pretty much cut off from everyone and everything, despite working with so many other people all day. She couldn't talk to them, not really, and she was forced to carry on as though nothing was wrong.

After the first day, Padmé had been terrified that the Sith would continue to abuse her, having nightmares every night about him standing over her, her not being able to breathe, but since then, he hadn't so much as touched her. A part of her wondered if he felt guilty about choking her, but she had quickly crushed that naïve assumption. Sith Lords did not feel guilt. The thought of touching her again probably didn't appeal much to him as there was no need. But she was thankful for it, either way. The bruises that had been left around her neck were already fading into nothing, proving that he hadn't actually had to apply much force in order to choke her. He just knew exactly where and how to do it. A disturbing skill he'd acquired after many years, no doubt.

But as she sat in her office, working a week later, her com went off. Glancing at it, she groaned. She knew she should have contacted the Queen sooner, but she hadn't had the courage to ask about making the call. Vader had specifically told her that all forms of communication would be monitored from now on, even while conducting business, and if she said _anything _negative about what had happened to her, that he would personally see to it that she regretted it. With his reputation, she hadn't doubted him.

Taking a calming breath, making sure her dress collar was up to hide the still fading bruises, Padmé answered. The image of the Queen came to life before her, and as her duty as a citizen, she bowed her head. "Your highness."

Queen Jamillia sat upon her throne, staring at her with an almost completely impassive face. Almost. There was concern mingled in there that she seemed unable to banish. "Senator Amidala," she greeted. A long pause stretched out between the two women as they sized the other up. "I have heard troubling rumor about you as of late," the younger woman finally managed to say.

The dreaded time had finally come. She was going to have to explain what had happened, going to have to lie. Could she do this? Could she lie to the woman she'd sworn to serve? Her term wasn't ended yet, but if this kept up, Padmé wondered if she would have to be forced to retire. She couldn't adequately serve her planet when she was being held hostage by the Empire.

"I am sorry, your highness," she said, keeping her face carefully neutral. "I've…had much to deal with here. I should have informed you sooner."

The Queen nodded slowly. "Are you all right?"

"Of course," she lied easily. "The Emperor has seen to protecting me, personally."

The other woman was silent a moment, clearly disbelieving what she was hearing, before she nodded anyway. "I see. What arrangements have been made?"

A part of Padmé prayed that the Queen would see the situation for what it was and call her home. She _needed _to get away from here. Maybe once safe on Naboo, she could announce that she was retiring. No one could blame her. She'd served her planet for over a decade with unswerving loyalty. It was time she had a rest. But she couldn't say that now, though. Not while she was being monitored so heavily.

"He has seen that, for my protection, I was moved to a more secure location, and was…_kind_ enough to appoint Lord Vader to watch over me while they search for any more hidden rebel plots."

It sounded like a weak and total fabrication to her ears, and she wondered if it did to everyone back at home too. The Queen, however, was nodding, even as she appeared uncomfortable. "I, of course, would send for your return immediately—" Padmé sat up straighter, unable to keep the hope from her face. "—but I'm afraid I can't. At this time." The senator slumped back down, feeling utterly defeated. "I was informed by the Emperor himself over the situation, and... and he believes it would be unwise to move you from your current location…at this time," she added again, as though it would make Padmé feel better.

Padmé felt numb. She felt…abandoned. Of course Palpatine would have already thought of every escape for her and closed them off. He wanted her to suffer, and he was doing a good job of it. So, despite wishing she could scream and cry and run away, the senator sat up straight in her chair and remained completely composed. "Of course," she nodded serenely. "It is for the best. Thank you, your highness, for understanding my lack of communication."

Jamillia seemed to want to say more, but also understood that to do so would be unwise. And so, with only a nod, she signed off, leaving Padmé to sink farther into her depression, knowing that there was no way out. Not for her.

It took a few moments to regain her composure, and after several deep breaths, she opened her eyes, ready to move forward. It was time to get back to work. The senate was convening today, and even though she wasn't scheduled to speak today, she had to pay close attention. She would do her work, even if the Emperor and Vader didn't like it. In some small way, in this, they couldn't touch her here. The outrage would be too much. She still hadn't figured out how Vader kept her personnel so quiet over the incident the first day, but she supposed something like a Jedi mind-trick had accomplished the deed. But even he couldn't cover up murdering her if she said something a little controversial.

As she made her way out, she was followed by her personal secretary and Jar Jar. When they walked out of the suite, a Storm Trooper began following them, a blaster in hand. He had become a known fixture here now over the past week, so he only received a few curious stares. Most beings ignored him now and who he was guarding. It was just as well with Padmé.

When they entered into their pod, the senator sat down in the front with her secretary right behind her while Jar Jar controlled the pod. The Storm Trooper stayed in the back, like a sentinel. He didn't get in the way, and after a few days, Padmé had learned to ignore him like everyone else. It was easy since the trooper didn't speak unless spoken to.

They were meeting to discuss how the Imperial Navy and Army were to be tried should crimes be committed on other planets. Of course the majority of the senators, who were afraid of the Empire, said it was to be left up to the military courts. A few planets, however, in which Padmé was among, believed that military men were to be tried in accordance to the laws of the planet that they had committed the crime. Those few individuals who spoke out against the Empire were, of course, branded traitor, rebel sympathizers, and the like. No one stopped to actually think about the implications that such a bill could mean. It was disheartening, to say the least.

"I don't see why this even has to be an issue," Senator Ritia Cotrilla cried, as her pod floated towards the center of the room when the debate became heated. "This is for everyone's benefit, don't you see? While I find it hard to believe that one of the good, upright Imperial Navy or Army men would even commit something smiliar to a crime, if they _were _to do it, let the military courts take care of them. It's a hassle and unwanted mess for the planet. These sorts of things are what the Imperial Courts are _for_. It's their _jobs_. I say if any person were to commit a crime while on another planet, let the Empire do its job and take care of it."

There were cheers that accompanied Cotrilla's declaration, but Padmé wasn't among them. What filth. She couldn't believe that people were stupid enough to follow the other woman. Everyone knew that the Empire did indeed commit crimes while planet-side, and even when given up to the Imperial Courts, over two-thirds of the cases were dropped and dismissed despite their severity. Even crimes such as torture were more often than not dismissed, as though it didn't happen. What was the galaxy coming to?

"Esteemed senators and fellow delegates," Bail Organa came forward. _At last, we'll hear some sense! _Padmé thought. "Can you not see the dangers that lie here? While I am sure that most men in the respected military forces would not take advantage of receiving no punishment on planets, we cannot deny the fact that there will be those who try."

He was met with boos and hisses, but ever poised, Bail continued. "If simply given over to the Imperial Courts, what then? They would not be standing among a true jury of their peers. They would be standing before a jury filled with biases in their favor, brothers in arms. So much favor, in fact, that if a soldier were to murder someone in cold blood, they could get away with it if they had the right friends or connections! Where would the justice be?"

"Such talk sounds like a load of rebel filth to me," Senator Cotrilla scowled, a hand on her hip. Very unprofessional.

"One does not need to be Imperial or rebel in order to see that this bill has a great many flaws," Bail replied coolly. "There are statistic reports that _prove_ charges brought against individuals from a planet are easily dismissed in Imperial Courts. I have taken the liberty of gathering such evidence to display here—"

But by then, Bail was drown out by so many negative calls and yelling, that he wasn't given the chance to show the charts on the viewer. By then, however, Padmé couldn't keep quiet. She'd sat by all week while these proceedings were going on, but now she couldn't take it anymore. She'd been living in fear of Vader all week that she'd forgotten to do her job to the best of her abilities. Well, not anymore.

Signaling to Jar Jar, the Naboo pod came out into the center where Ritia was still glaring at Bail. The moment everyone realized who had come forward, they all became silent. Padmé held herself with such decorum and dignity that even those who hated her still had to have respect. Cotrilla glared at her once she realized the spotlight had been taken from her.

"My fellow citizens of the Galactic Empire," Padmé began, ignoring the glares and stares a like. "This is not an issue about being Imperial or rebel or even Separatist," she began, echoing Bail. "This is a matter of being a concerned citizen of the galaxy. Senator Organa has every right to be concerned with his bill. I am as well. This isn't about supporting our troops, it's about protecting our peoples' rights. The more power we give to Imperial founded institutions, the less power we have as private planets. As Senator Organa already correctly stated, it's not to say that we believe all soldiers are terrible people that will commit crimes and abuse the system, but there is always that chance. It's within the nature of all being.

"I do not support the bill as it stands now," she went on, making sure to scan the room with a steady gaze. "Revisions must be made. I would not be doing my duty as a representative of Naboo nor of the galaxy if I let this pass here today. I call for revision."

"I second that," Bail moved his pod beside Padmé's.

Cries of favor and disagreement were called all across the senate, and only then did Mas Amedda finally speak up and do his job. "Order!" he cried. "Order! The motion has been seconded."

"I, too, on behalf of Malastare, agree with Senators Amidala and Organa," Ask Aak spoke up.

Padmé had to smile slightly at the Gran. He was normally not a bold being, but he apparently had strong feelings about this. He'd just needed a little push. And soon, the Wookie senator also came to their aid. And after some more yelling and disagreements, there was no other option but to reconvene at a later date with a revised bill. Either that, or the Emperor could choose to pass it anyway. But if reports were to be believed, Palpatine couldn't do that, at least right now. The Empire was still too fragile for him to be pushing his power like this. If he wanted to keep the Empire together, he was going to have to make compromises…for now.

After the whole mess was cleared and postponed to reconvene in a week's time, they were released. Padmé couldn't help but feel pleased, happy even. She'd gotten her old spark back. It felt good. She'd been too worried about herself lately. It was time that that change and she start making real attempts at freeing herself from out underneath Vader.

"Senator Amidala!"

The young woman turned in time to see Bail Organa walking towards her. She smiled at him, even as he stared at the trooper warily. She'd almost forgotten about her guard. "Senator Organa," she greeted neutrally. "Your presentation was as organized and thorough as always. A shame we didn't get to hear the rest of it."

"Thank you. There will be another time, I'm sure," Bail nodded. "And you, Senator, were as inspirational as always."

She couldn't help the small smile. "Thank you. Are you going to lunch?"

"Soon. I need to drop off a few things from my office first." He paused. "Will you be going to the cafeteria soon?"

For just a moment, Padmé looked around, trying to see if there was a shadow following her, ready to grab her and drag her away to her office, but she didn't see him. Maybe he wouldn't come at all today. It was a fragile hope, but she hoped with all her being that hewouldn't come this afternoon. The trooper was bad enough.

"Yes," she agreed. "I am heading there now."

"Then perhaps I can join you then, and we can discuss this further?" He was saying one thing, but the look he was giving her said quite another.

She nodded, getting the message. "We'll see."

They went their separate ways, and Padmé was just beginning to relax when the form of the Dark Lord appeared out of nowhere in front of her. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"An interesting speech you gave today, Senator."

Padmé struggled to keep the sorrow from her features. Of course he would be here. "Thank you," she replied tartly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."

Jar Jar and her aid paused and hung back even as Padmé continued walking, not knowing what to do with the Sith around. And much to her distress, as she continued walking, Vader easily fell into step beside her, the trooper now no longer in sight. There was to be no peaceful lunch now. No time to talk to Bail.

The two made their way to the cafeteria, and the full room almost collectively as one stopped talking the moment the Sith entered alongside the senator. No one looked at her, too afraid of the Sith and Padmé was forced to sit alone and eat while Vader stood guard over her. He didn't sit, didn't eat, didn't even talk. Just stood there like a big black wall. It annoyed and angered her. She hated him.

But since today seemed to be a special day now that Lord Vader had graced the cafeteria with his presence, Senator Cotrilla came sashaying towards the Sith and the Naboo woman. "Senator Amidala," she greeted with a false smile. "Lord Vader," her smile turned disgustingly sweet. "What an honor to see you here, my lord. What brings you here?"

Seeing the other woman so obviously vie for the Sith's attention instantly put Padmé off her appetite. What sort of woman would flirt with Darth Vader? Who cares if he was the heir to the throne, it was disgusting. But then, everyone knew Ritia slept her way to get to where she was today, and even slept with others to makes under the table deals. Her morals were all but nonexistent now, so it was little wonder she would set her sights on the evil creature that would succeed Palpatine.

But to her eternal delight, it seemed Vader was about as impressed with the redhead as Padmé was herself, because he took one look at the other woman before turning away in apparent revulsion. "That," he growled, "is none of your business."

The look on Cotrilla's face bespoke of fear, confusion, and insult. Although not normally one to delight in other's suffering, Padmé couldn't help the vicious glee that coursed through her. Finally, a man that didn't succumb to the bitch's charms!

"I see," Ritia said after she recovered from her shock. This was quite possibly the first time any male and refused her attentions in many years. "Well, it is an honor all the same. It is interesting, though, that you are spending your time with Senator Amidala rather than the more _loyal _senators here. Why I—"

Vader turned on the woman so fast, not only Padmé, but several other people about a meter away, jumped in alarm. "Leave!" the Sith hissed.

It was the fastest Padmé had ever seen the other woman respond to a command. A sense of delight filled her again, and she didn't try and stop it. As a child she'd never had a mean-streak, but she'd developed one when entering into the world of politics. Sometimes it was the only way to cope. But her enjoyment at seeing the busty redhead run away was short lived once she realized Vader had turned his attention towards her.

"Hurry up and finish," he commanded. "I have no desire to stand here all afternoon while other mindless cretins attempt conversation."

It was obvious he didn't like being here. Good! She made mental note to keep coming to the cafeteria from now on. Any little annoyances she could cause him and get away with were worth the loneliness she felt at seeing everyone else enjoying themselves while they ate. It was little consolation, but it was consolation all the same.

"I'm not hurrying," she said evenly, cutting into her meat. "Wouldn't want to choke." She threw him a dirty scowl.

He didn't react to it at all. "You had better finish quickly," he threatened darkly.

"If you're so impatient, then leave," she suggested irritably. "I want to enjoy my meal in peace."

He made a strange sound that was probably due to restraining his anger or exasperation. Either way, it delighted Padmé. She knew she was playing with a caged nexu, but it was satisfying to tease him like this. It was clear that Vader didn't want to do anything to her while in front of others, probably on Palpatine's orders, and so she felt comfortable at the moment. She would deal with the later when it came.

It appeared as though he were going to do just that and let her alone, but after another moment, he surprised her by pulling out the seat opposite her and sitting down. All hopes for a quiet meal met a cruel death. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to tease him after all.

After a few awkward moments of just sitting staring at each other, Padmé tore her attention way to gaze down at her food. She couldn't stand just looking at that ugly mask anymore. She already had nightmares as it was, she didn't want them to become more detailed if she should notice something new about the creature's 'face.' Vader, on the other hand, didn't seem too concerned over the situation, and continued to look at her.

"What you said today in the senate will not please the Emperor," he said at last.

"I don't really care," she spat bitterly. This hell just kept getting deeper and deeper. "What I said was the truth. If everyone else wasn't too stupid or frightened, then they would never have supported this bill as far as it has gotten."

"They are smarter than you," Vader crossed his arms over his chest. "They have learned not to attract the Empire's notice."

Padmé scowled up at him, feeling her anger rise. "So you would have mindless followers? You would have them make the decisions for everyone else in the galaxy until you both have amassed trillions of citizens that hate you?"

"Let them hate," the Sith replied evenly, "as long as they fear." The senator sat speechless for a moment. "As long as they fear, they obey. When they obey, there is order."

Never in her life had Padmé heard someone speak this way and mean it. It was the epitome of dictatorial brutality. She began shaking her head in disbelief. "How can you believe that?"

Vader stared at her for a long moment, before uncrossing his arms resting them on the armrests. "It is true, Senator. One only has to look at the facts. The galaxy is too big of a place to apply any other form of government. It needs strong, decisive leaders if anything is to be accomplished. Your old Republic was nothing by a joke—smoke and mirrors to appease the galaxy even as it was falling in around itself. Because there was no clear order, it could not survive."

"And you would have order brought about by fear?" she asked incredulously. "Fear will counteract—"

"Fear," Vader growled, "keeps order. No one wants to get into trouble or to be punished. Fear of the punishment keeps others in line. It is a basic principal. Even your old Republic used fear."

"That's not true!" Padmé spat in disgust. "We never terrorized planets with whole armies or threatened to wipe out a species!"

"No," Vader agreed readily. "But you did incite laws. And what are laws other than threats of punishment that will keep others out of trouble or doing what you do not want them to do?"

Padmé fell silent. He had a point. In a twisted sort of way, he understood how law worked. The problem, however, was that he obviously had no problem about extending the ideas of law to the extreme to satisfy his own actions or those of the Empire. But perhaps she could use this to her advantage…

"True," she admitted, forcing herself to become calm. "But with that logic, would you not have to accept what I did today in the senate as something good?" She wondered briefly if he was scowling behind his mask. "By taking away a planet's ability to punish those who have done wrong, and to hand them over to courts that would likely dismiss the cases, then you are eliminating an element of fear which, as you pointed out, is essential for the foundation of this government."

A few cycles of his breathing passed before the Sith found words again. "That is assuming that what you say and think about the Imperial Courts is true," he was sounding defensive.

"You know that what I've said about them is correct," she replied becoming frustrated with the hopelessness of explaining this to him. She was suddenly ceased with an idea, and she reached forward, just shy of taking his hand which was resting on the table, turning pleading eyes upon him. "Please, you know I'm right. If this bill were to pass, please, make sure that the Imperial Courts take these cases seriously! I want justice in the galaxy, peace, that's all! You have the power to see that it all ends fairly. Please, don't ignore this!"

Again the Sith fell silent. They stared at one another from across the table, and this time, it was not Padmé who looked away first. Suddenly, Vader shot up to his full height, towering over her. A sudden chill overcame her, and she shrank back away from the creature, knowing that she had pushed too much today. She began to shiver.

"Get up," he hissed. "You're finished now."

It took a moment to recompose her features, but when she did, Padmé stood and followed the Sith out her face blank. She was slightly distressed about the fact that she hadn't been able to clean up her mess, but someone would get it. When Darth Vader commanded you to do something in that particular tone of voice, you would have to be suicidal or just plain dumb not to obey. Anyone would forgive her for this minor offense.

The most complicated thing about being in Vader's company was how to act around him. Thus far he ignored her more than anything, but there were rare occasions, like today, when he decided that he wanted to talk. And when he did talk, it was something fairly deep or insightful, like when he had explained to her about the Force, or their recent political debate. But what made these conversations difficult was the fact that you never knew when you had spoken out too far. One moment all was well, the next, he was infuriated. It didn't always make sense why he became angry, but then, he didn't really need a reason.

When they made it back to her office, she was relieved that he hadn't touched her at all. She had been fearful he would simply drag her away as he had done in the past. But he hadn't. Maybe she had learned to keep the proper pace so that he didn't feel the need to touch her anymore. That was a pleasant thought.

The moment she was within the suite, and the trooper guard saluted in greeting, Vader didn't bother to stick around. Instead, he left, stalking away, cape billowing about him, leaving Padmé very confused.

**oOoOoOo**

Bail Organa watched as Senator Amidala and Lord Vader exited the cafeteria with concern. He'd wanted to speak to her about everything that had been occurring recently, but the moment he'd seen the Sith, he'd known it wouldn't be prudent to attempt conversation with his friend. Especially since last time she'd been dragged away. Something was very wrong here.

"You seem unusually pensive after scoring a point against Cotrilla." He turned to find Mon smiling slightly at him.

"You know why I am," he replied evenly.

"I had thought we weren't going to broach that subject here." It wasn't really a question.

"It needs broaching immediately," he scowled as he looked back over his shoulder to where his friend and the Sith had exited.

"We talked about this, Bail," Mon sighed. "There's nothing to be done. We have to assume that she's lost."

"Yes," he agreed steadily, making sure he voice wouldn't carry the sensitive topic to treacherous ears. "Which leads me to once again ask the question, how are we going to get her back?"

"Bail…"

"You don't honestly believe what they're saying?"

Mon sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes. "Bail, this is not the time nor the place," she snapped. "She has made her bed, now she must lie in it."

"You don't honestly believe what they said," the Alderaanian growled. "I know Padmé and she would _never _sell us out."

"Strong words, when we've just seen her leave with the Emperor's Right Hand."

"You don't believe it either, Mon," Bail pressed. "It doesn't make sense. You saw what happened last week. You saw how he reacted now. If she were to betray us, then why would Vader be here to stunt her activities? Wouldn't they _want _her to continue meeting us?"

"Because she's gotten in over her head," the Chandrilan sighed. "I'm not saying I know for sure what's going on, but what I do know is that we must stay away. For now," she added quietly.

"Stay away from what?"

The two rebels turned to find Cotrilla standing nearby, hip cocked to the side with crossed arms. "What are you two talking about?" she pressed.

It was hard to ruffle Mon Mothma's feathers, but it took a lot more to do it than the woman in front of them. The Chandrilan straightened up in her seat, and stared down her nose at the other senator. "Senator Cotrilla. Have you never heard that it is impolite to eavesdrop?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Spare me your sophisticated drivel."

"I didn't know that being polite could only be obtained by the sophisticated," Mon drawled. "It explains a lot about you, actually."

Bail had to hide a smile as the other woman bristled. "You think you're so much better than me just because you were born to a wealthy family! But I say—"

"My dear, confused girl," Mon held up a hand, unconcerned that they had gathered an audience. "I do not believe that I am better than you because I was born into a family with means and you were not. I am not so shallow a person." She paused. "I know I'm better than you because I didn't have to sleep with every Imperial officer on Coruscant to get to my attained position."

There were plenty of laughs, snorts, chirps, and roars of amusement that had followed, and Bail struggled not to be among them. It wouldn't look good, after all, considering he had debated this woman not too long ago.

Ritia scowled, and her bottom lip quivered dangerous. Bail was about to intervene, but the redhead stomped off before anything more could be said. Several senators clapped, while Mon pretended not to notice as she continued with her meal. So much dignity for one that had just verbally abused another being.

Bail couldn't help but smile. "That was low, even for you."

Mon continued her meal peacefully. "Was it? I hadn't really noticed." She was smirking ever so slightly.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Organa laughed, shaking his head.

But as he continued on with his meal, his amusement didn't last long as he kept thinking back to his other friend. _Padmé I hope that whatever got you into this mess gets you right back out soon. _

* * *

**Author's Note: **Not much to say here. Just that Padmé is beginning to realize she can't back down, even from Vader, even if she is afraid.

Reviews are awesome and make smiles. Thanks to all who do!


	5. Chapter 5: Abnormal

**Chapter Five: Abnormal **

They weren't on speaking terms anymore. Padmé wasn't sure how she could really tell, seeing as Vader rarely spoke anyway, but she could. Not one word since their discussion in the cafeteria at the senate. Not _one_. He'd even gone as far as to ignore her, sending troopers to guard her when it had usually been him. Maybe she was just imagining things, maybe he was just busier than normal with other things, but the Naboo woman would bet her wardrobe that he was ignoring her.

Very mature. Although she wasn't an expert on the Sith, would never claim to be, she found it more than a little strange that he was acting this way. Brooding, sure, she could see a Sith brood, it was probably in the job description. Threating her or just plain not speaking to her was understandable. But ignoring her? It seemed more than a little juvenile, and really unbecoming of someone with so much power such as him. But then, he might not be ignoring her. He might really just be really busy…though her feelings told her it was otherwise.

It was the weekend now, and Padmé once again found herself bored. Last weekend she'd managed to keep herself busy by doing inventory on her belongings to find out what was here and what must still be at her apartment. She'd also taken to organizing her belongings and room, setting up like she wanted. Though there really wasn't that much to move in the room. It was the bare minimum of everything. Just a bed, nightstands, and a desk and chair. That was it. There was a rather large holoscreen on the wall, though, which allowed her to watch the news, but she couldn't move it. She had also found a laundry chute and a com to call for her meals. Other than that, it was all rather bland, everything too efficient and lacking in any personality. She was actually surprised that there was a holoscreen at all. None of her little belongings had been brought here, however, no pictures, to cheer the blandness of the space she inhabited here.

This weekend, though, she had nothing to occupy her time except the holoscreen. Other than the news, she wasn't one to watch much. All the shows that had passed Imperial censorship were dreadfully dull to her and dripping in propaganda. There was no risqué humor or controversially explosive shows on anymore. Every plot was mind-numbing and Padmé lost interest very quickly. She debated on whether to go on a walk around the base, but remembered that she would probably be questioned and sent back here if she didn't have a good reason.

Sighing, she looked about her room for something to distract her. She wasn't allowed to bring any work home anymore, and calls home were forbidden. She'd already made her bed and cleaned about five times, so she couldn't do that again. It was only ten in the morning, and she thought that perhaps she should just take a nap when she remember the balcony only several doors down.

Walking out of her room, she was pleasantly surprised that 3PO didn't come rushing immediately to her, nor did security. She knew she was being watched, but it was nice not to be able to see it. When she made it to the balcony, she felt a little better about her situation, even though she knew she was just fooling herself.

Speeders as far as the eyes could see; ships and shuttles. It always amazed her how many beings could occupy such a seemingly small space. Growing up she'd learned about all the different worlds, heard about all of the different planets that occupied the galaxy. But looking back on it, she'd led a rather sheltered life. She'd had her family to love and protect her from much of the universe, and she'd never felt overwhelmed, even when she'd gotten into politics. But here, Coruscant…the first time she'd seen the planet she'd been completely shocked. There was so much to see, to do. It was a shock to every sense she possessed. How was it that so many different beings could live here like this? It was amusing, perhaps, to visit, but she didn't like living here. It was just so…different.

Not for the first time, she wondered what would happen if she just decided to jump in a speeder and fly away. Her work had never really been that physically demanding, nor had her imprisonment been particularly taxing, but the mental stress. Padmé considered herself a strong person, one that was psychologically trained to withstand quite a bit. But not this. Being isolated like this, seeing everyone so near, yet having them out of reach, it would have been kinder to just lock her away. It was pathetic how she longed to be with people while she was with them, and when she wasn't. She was trapped either alone or with _him_. Strangely, he was the only one she had been able to have any sort of normal conversations with…until he decided he wasn't speaking to her anymore.

Maybe she could just jump off the balcony and try to catch hold of a speeder? She almost laughed at the idea, imagining the Emperor and Vader's reactions when they found out. Just imaging it made it seem like a pretty good idea. Either she would be able to latch on to one speed and get away, or she'd fall to her death. Either way, she'd be out of Vader's grasp, which was all she wanted.

She was just in the middle of fantasizing leaping off, imagining what people would say, and how her family would react if she died, when the unmistakable sound of a respirator filled the air. On a reflex, she shivered, but she remained where she was. He had said she had free reign of this hallway, and by the Force, she was going to take him up on that! She wasn't doing anything wrong, either, just standing and watching the traffic go by.

Fervently she wished he would just stalk on by and not even notice her. But when the hissing became louder, she knew she wasn't going to get her wish. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the outline of black, but she tried not to acknowledge him as he came to stand beside her. His presence was cold, however, dark, and it filled her with dread. She wasn't sure if she could stay with him like this when she had the option to get away.

At last, she couldn't take it, and she turned to him. "What do you want?" she asked shortly.

Had she said this to anyone else, they might have called her rude. But over the past week and a half of living with him, she was slowly beginning to realize that Vader didn't like long, drawn out conversations. He was a man that got straight to the point. Blunt. Padmé even suspected that secretly he preferred speaking to people when they were short with him.

"I'm leaving this evening," he replied, not bothering to look down at her. "I will return in several days."

Padmé looked back out at the city. "So. You're speaking to me again?"

It was Vader's turn to stare at her. "I was never not speaking to you."

In spite of herself, the senator couldn't help the small smile that came to her lips. Was that confusion she heard in Lord Vader's voice? And when did he use speech that sounded so…unprofessional? Had she caught him off guard that much? It was an amusing idea.

"Really?" she leaned back against the railing, both hands clutching it on either side. "Is that why you haven't been speaking to me for several days?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Senator," he growled, obviously annoyed with her flippant attitude. "I have better things to do with my time than thinking of ways to avoid you." He was pointing at her for good measure.

The senator merely raised an eyebrow, before turning away from him, to look back out at the city. "So where are you going, dare I ask?"

"That is none of your concern," he snapped. He wasn't in the mood for this, but it was as though Padmé could sense more frustration that anger from him at the moment. She was no Jedi, but she had learned to trust her own instincts, and right now they were telling her she could push ahead, despite the growling.

So, taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Just as well," she muttered. "You're probably going out to slaughter innocent people. I don't really want to hear about that."

She thought she heard a strangled hissing sound coming from the Sith, but again, even though she was wary and slightly fearful, something told her that he wasn't going to lash out at her this time. He had come here for a reason and had given it, she only now wondered why he stayed. He wasn't the type for casual conversation.

After several minutes in which Padmé assumed he was calming himself down, he spoke up again. "While I am away, a trooper will be escorting you to and from the senate."

"Fine."

"Also, there will be troopers at the bottom of this lift should you attempt to leave the wing."

"Sure."

"Try anything while I am away and—"

"You'll make me regret it. I get it," she sighed, hanging her head in weariness. After a beat she glance over to find the Sith was staring at her and he had gone very ridged. Oh, he didn't like being treated like this? Too bad. Padmé wasn't in the mood. She'd been contemplating jumping from the balcony before he got here, him threatening her at the moment wasn't as terrifying as it would've been any other time.

He was angry, she could tell, but she tried not to let it bother her. He was still here, which meant he still had a reason to be. What it could be, she didn't know, but she was impressed that he hadn't choked her again, or thrown her off the balcony himself. _There's a first time for everything_.

"My personal assistant will be here should you require anything," he continued, his voice sounding more strained now than at the beginning of their little chat. Once he had divulged this information, he turned and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Padmé called. Unconsciously she reached out, and managed to brush one of his gloved hands with hers.

She gasped when he jerked away from her, as though she had burned him, as he spun around on her. "What?!" he hissed.

The restraint she'd felt from him earlier had evaporated, and now she was reminded of why it was a good idea to be frightened of this creature. "Y-you said…" she trailed off, having to start again. "I-I do require something," she replied simply.

Even though she couldn't see his eyes, Padmé knew Vader was glaring at her. She could feel it. But once more, he must have reigned in his temper, as he simply crossed his arms. "What?"

At least he was willing to listen. That was more consideration than he gave most people. "I want to go back to my apartment," she spoke quickly. "Not all of my stuff was brought over."

Padmé could hear the sneer in his voice when he said, "Such concerns are wasted on useless material things, Senator."

"All the same," she replied, trying not to let the barb sting, "I would like it back. May I go retrieve it?"

"No," he said shortly. "Your apartment has already been sold."

And it was just as Padmé had feared. She really wasn't going to get out of here any time soon. "So my things were all sold?" She really shouldn't be too surprised. She knew it was just like the Emperor to see to such matters.

"No," Vader surprised her. "Everything has been taken to the security holding within the base."

It wasn't wise to get her hopes up, but Padmé couldn't help herself. "Can I have the rest of it back then?"

Vader stared down at her for a long moment, probably mulling it over. Maybe she shouldn't have been so flippant with him earlier. He'd been in a relatively good mood for him, why did she always push her luck? All she could do now was look up at him with big, pleading eyes. It usually worked on normal people, but she doubted it would on a Sith Lord. There was no harm in trying, right? …she hoped.

At last, he spoke. "After it has all been analyzed and if it is found to be harmless, you may have it back."

She smiled before she could think better of it. "My handmaiden," she began again, going in for all or nothing. "Can she come stay here with me, too?"

"No," the Sith replied instantly.

"She won't be any trouble, I swear." Padmé knew she was pleading now, but she didn't care.

"No."

"She has a practical purpose," she argued. "She can help me get ready in the mornings faster. And she can keep me company, give me someone to talk to while I'm here."

"You have the protocol droid for that," Vader began to turn away.

"I need real, _human _interaction," she protested. "I…I need someone I can actually talk to. Some of us have _feelings _and aren't machines like _you_."

"I said, 'no,' Senator," the big creature snapped. "You will cease this useless begging and get out of my sight!"

So much anger. But she couldn't give up. Not yet. Let him choke her again. She'd been so scared she hadn't shown the proper concern for a woman that had done nothing but serve her faithfully for years.

"Please," she began evenly after a moment, keeping her voice soft in attempt to calm him as well. "My handmaiden has only ever stayed with me. If my apartment was sold, she would have nowhere to go here on Coruscant. I haven't seen her in over a week. _Please_. I just want to make sure she's all right."

"You should not concern yourself with her anymore, Senator," Vader snapped, but did sound calmer.

Padmé paled. "What have you done to her?" she whispered hoarsely. A thousand horrible scenarios raced through her mind as to what the Sith actually meant.

Apparently he understood her fear, and had he been anyone else, the senator imaged he would have scoffed. "She's been sent back to Naboo," he rumbled before turning away. He had only walked a meter or so before he paused. Padmé thought he was going to say something else, but instead, a growl escaped him before he continued on. He sealed himself in the room at the end of the hall, _his _room, she imaged without another glance.

He was so strange. The more Padmé watched and interacted with the Sith, the more confused she became. One thing that was for sure, however, was that she was going to have to be more careful, especially if she was ever going to find a way out of here.

**oOoOoOo**

The instant he was in his private chambers, Vader tore off his helmet and mask and threw it against the wall with alarming force. He was furious and he wasn't sure he would be able to calm himself down. How? How was it that this woman, this _politician, _could get him so riled up? Why did he tolerate it?

It was not to be borne. Stalking over to his hyperbaric chamber, Vader sat down with a growl, clenching and unclenching his fists. He needed something to punch, to strangle, to kill. He was so furious, random objects in the room were now floating about precariously as his powers were not being controlled properly. Had it been anything else, he could have simply exterminated the cause of his fury. But he couldn't this time. And not just because his master had commanded him to keep Senator Amidala safe and away. No, the real reason he couldn't destroy the cause of his fury was because he wasn't even exactly sure _why _he was angry in the first place.

Senator Amidala was a bold creature, one that didn't seem to know when to shut up. She was annoyingly intelligent, frustratingly logical, and, quite frankly, a thorn in his side. She didn't even have to be speaking and she infuriated him. She could be sitting quietly, but one _look _at him and he was furious. When she wanted something, she pushed and pushed and pushed until Vader was certain he was going to slice her in half with his 'saber.

But he couldn't do that. His master had said the senator was to be undamaged, and so undamaged as how Vader would keep her. But it wasn't just her spunk that made the Sith want to rip out her throat. Oh no, Senator Amidala was much more clever than that. It was also those sudden, earnest pleas she would send him. The way she would look up at him with innocent, big brown eyes. Vader had killed thousands of beings all across the galaxy, and never had any qualms about it, even when they got down on their knees and begged. But when Senator Amidala did it…

It just didn't make sense. For a reason that went completely beyond him, when he heard and saw the senator plead it…it did something to him. It always caused him to pause, to reflect, to _listen_. The way she now reached out to him…He was a Dark Lord of the Sith! He should not be entertaining ideas requests from a known traitor, and yet…

"_Gah_!" he cried, slamming his firsts into the armrests of his chair. It was a good thing it was made of steal and leather.

But that _still _wasn't it. While her boldness and her begging were infuriating enough, there was also the added fact that he _gave in _to her requests or at least he wanted to. When she pleaded about not wanting him to harm her friends, he hadn't done it. In fact, he'd gone out of his way to make sure that when he wiped their minds of the choking incident, he had been extra careful with them. When she had begged him to do something about the military court bill he'd wanted to help her and see justice served. He really had wanted to until sense had blessedly returned. And just now, he'd allowed her to reclaim her possessions. Why? Why had he done that? They were useless and unnecessary to sustain her life, yet he'd given them back. Why?!

Leaning back in his chair, the young Sith stared at himself in the black view screen, noticing with some pleasure that his hair had grown back. His face also looked much better too. All the scars were fading. Except for the one over his right eye. That one was probably never going to go away.

Turning on the screen, Vader watched as countless new messages popped up. He glared at them for a moment, as though he could make them go away, before looking through them carefully. Most of them were nothing but junk. Some invitations to go to some gathering, Grand Moffs complaining to him about inferiors he'd killed, and even messages from lesser beings pleading for him to help them with some insignificant problem. He especially avoided the latter, being too much reminded of _her _at the moment.

After deleting most of the messages, he began working on answering everything that was relevant and making plans and arranging meetings, even sending a message to give the senator back her possessions. Two hours went by, and his agitation hadn't lessened much. He'd tried to bury himself in his work, but he was still thinking about her. It was hard not to. She was so _close. _

Since she'd gotten here, he hadn't been able to meditate properly. What he'd said to her over a week ago stood true. She had a strong Force signature. It was not to say that she could become a Force-manipulator, but she was significantly more aware of the Force than others. Her mind was considerably stronger than most, so mind-tricks wouldn't work on her. For whatever reason, he could sometimes hear her thoughts when she was projecting strong emotions. It was not unheard of, but it still confused Vader. He'd heard of this occurring with other Force-sensitive beings, but for a non-Force user? It was rare. There were old manuscripts that spoke of such connections, but they'd only been between two beings who were close and had a greater connection to one another outside the Force.

That wasn't the case with him, though. He didn't have any sort of connection with Amidala, and he didn't want one. He marked this occurrence to his strong Force sensitivity. His master had always told him that because of his strength, he could do what other Force users could only imagine. It made sense. When he'd gone into the Jedi Temple, he'd been besieged by hundreds of Jedi, sometimes being attacked by seven or eight at a time, but he'd still come out as victor. It was not bragging when he said that he was the most powerful Force-user in the galaxy. Even when there were still Jedi about, he'd still been the most powerful. He'd found that out when he'd been curious as to his midi-chlorian count. Since finding that out, he hadn't come across any beings in history that had come close to his.

But even with all that powers, he couldn't block out the simple presence of a tiny woman. For whatever reason, he'd become so attuned to her that her presence was like a blinding light. He could be at the other end of the base, and he could still feel her. It was frustrating. The Dark Side shrank away from such light, making it nearly impossible to meditate, to surround himself in the Force. Since he hadn't been able to meditate much over the week, it left him on edge, irritate, and just plain tired.

This trip away hadn't come too soon. On his way towards Bimmisaari he would make sure to meditate for several hours at a time to replenish the Dark Side. He would need it to put down the Bimm rebellion. It was essential that he was at his peak when reminding the planet just who was in control of the galaxy now. It would be good to get off Coruscant and be on a mission of some importance again. It had started to get dull with no Jedi to hunt. It had been only three years, but already there were too few Jedi left. They were either all dead or in hiding.

For just a moment, Vader indulged in the image of being able to go on a bloody rampage again, as he had in the Jedi Temple. What a thrill that had been! He had never felt so free, killing all that stood in his path. It had been marvelous. No restraints. No one had been off limits.

Not like now. Now he had to behave. Now he had to play the game of politics. It was disgusting. Everything his master had said, all that he'd promised…it wasn't lining up. He'd been promised power, _unlimited_ _power_. Now he had to temper himself and play the game of sit and wait. Patience was never his strong suit, but that's how this manipulation of power worked. Sit and wait; bait, and see who took a bite. Perhaps such things were required for revenge, but it was unsatisfying. His anger burned brightest fresh, and it needed release quickly or it would lessen until he simply didn't care much anymore. It was not to say he didn't hold grudges, but the majority of his anger usually fled away into annoyances. The Dark Side demanded blood, lots of blood and hatred to be fueled. But being so stunted by rules? By these _games_?

Yes. This stop at Bimmisaari would be good for him. It would take his mind away from the frustrations of the political and bureaucratic dealings on Coruscant so that he could immerse himself in the Dark Side. He would finally be able to do what he was best at. He would finally be able to enjoy the terror of his victims without having to worry about seeing infuriatingly bright brown eyes staring up at him and unable to destroy them.

Powerless to contain his impetuousness, Vader stood and was about to leave, when he paused, noticing the lack of hissing. Looking about the room, he located his mask and helmet against the opposite side of his chambers. Had it not been beaten out of him, he might have sighed, but he didn't. He hated that helmet, hated it probably more than anything else in the galaxy, save the Jedi, but it was a necessary evil. Using the Force, he levitated it back over to him, before putting it back on. The infamous, chilling hiss of the respirator soon filled the silence. Lord Vader was ready.

The doors to his chambers opened and he was so focused on what last minute reports he had to receive before he left when he bumped into something. Hard. Hard enough, in fact, that it fell over, and he nearly toppled completely over as well. It was a miracle that he hadn't.

Absolutely livid, he glared down at what had been in his path, only to discover, strangely enough, an astromech. Furious, he was about to destroy it with his lightsaber, when a flash of brown and blue came running towards him. "Wait!"

Snapping his head up, he glared at the senator, who looked very pale. "What is that _thing _doing here?!" he thundered.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" the senator was pleading breathlessly, even as she was kneeling beside the droid, trying to help it up. "I told him not to go, but he was curious, and—"

The droid interrupted when it began making long complicated beeps and twitters, ending in a rather rude sound. It didn't help Vader's temper.

"_I _was not in _your _way!" he snapped, reaching for his lightsaber. How dare the stupid thing accuse him of not paying attention to where he was going!

"No!" the senator stood instantly, reaching out for him again. Vader pulled away, uncomfortable and frustrated with her wanting to touch him. "Please, he's just a little…eccentric. He didn't mean to be rude. Please don't hurt him."

"It's a _thing_," Vader snarled, again, furious he had to look at those large brown eyes.

"I know, but he's…he's my friend," she admitted.

The Sith paused. Something…struck a chord with him. He could remember a time when he had been alone, with only a droid…

No! That hadn't been him. That had been completely different person. A person that was dead. They were so far gone, it was as though they didn't exist. Only he was keeping the memory of that boy alive.

As he stared down at the droid and the senator, Vader's first instinct was to simply destroy the machine and then perhaps remind the senator of whom she was dealing with. But that sad plead and attempt to protect something that wasn't even alive…Against his better judgment, he hooked his lightsaber back on his belt.

"Just keep that thing away from me," he snarled. He couldn't look at her while he said it.

Amidala appeared to be surprised, before she nodded quickly. "Of course. Thank you. A-and thank you for having my other things brought to me."

Crossing his arms, he glared down at the droid. In spite of himself, he was finding he was more curious with the droid now more than angry. Rather unfortunate. "Why do you have an astromech?" While he was not necessarily politically savvy, he was fairly certain that senators didn't need droids of this kind to pass bills.

"His memory's been wipe!" she blurted. "Your techs saw to that."

"That's not what I asked."

"Yes, well…" It was strange how his eyes focused on her biting her bottom lip. Was it a sign of some sort? Was she hiding something? The Force was trying to tell him something, but he sensed no lie or any form of deception. "I keep him because he saved my life a few times. He's my friend. I just…I just like having him around."

Sentimental over a droid. How droll. _But are _you_ any better? _that treacherous part of his mind whispered. He shoved it aside ruthlessly.

"Keep it out of my way," he said again, stabbing at finger in her direction. "If I find that it has caused any more disruptions I will destroy it myself."

"Of course," she nodded.

"And you will address me with the proper respect," he growled. He was being too lenient with her, he had to keep her afraid and cooperative. The sooner he was away on this mission, the better, he decided.

"Of course, my lord," she amended quickly.

There was more he wanted to say, but he didn't. Vader stared at the senator, unable to figure out why he treated her differently than other people. It couldn't be for the sole fact that she was beautiful. He'd tortured and killed plenty of beautiful women the same as anyone else in the past. It wasn't because she was bold either. Those who spoke out against him in the past usually just died faster than those who didn't. But there was something about this senator. The Force was trying to tell him something. He tried to grasp ahold of its meaning, but it eluded him.

When she began shifting uncomfortably, the Sith realized he'd stayed too long. Turning towards the lift, he stalked off. The sound of the astromech's distressed beeps sounded across the hall. When Vader turned to enter the lift, he realized the senator was still struggling to get the heavy little machine upright.

Again, another man's conscience sprang up in his mind. Growling at the weakness, Vader raised his hand and lifted the droid using the Force, setting it down on its own two feet. The last he saw of the senator before the doors slid shut and he was away on his mission, was the surprise shining in those bright brown eyes.

It was an expression he hoped never to see again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Uh-oh. Vader doesn't like to be reminded that he has feelings. Poor guy. It really would be easier if he could just kill her. But that's not gunna happen any time soon. He's just going to have to put up with these abnormal feelings for a while longer yet.

Reviews make happy rainbows so send some to me, please! Thanks to everyone who has!


	6. Chapter 6: Alone

**Chapter Six: Alone**

Later that night found Padmé sitting amongst the boxes of her returned possessions. She'd been delighted when several men brought them up, and amused at their nervous glances. They obviously had never been in Vader's personal wing before. She wondered if anyone ever really had. But she'd been more surprised when they'd brought R2 up as well. She'd forgotten about her little droid amongst all the chaos, but she was glad to see him safe. She would have thought, however, that they wouldn't have been so trusting of the little droid. But then, Vader must have said _everything_, and no one ever wanted to go against an order from _him_.

Glancing over at the astromech, she shook her head fondly. "You're a very lucky little droid," she tisked. "I don't know what was wrong with Vader today, but you almost met the business end of his lightsaber."

The little droid chirped at her boldly, and she could only imagine what the little sassy thing had said to her. She wished she could understand him better than just guessing all the time. Which actually led to another confusing revelation: Vader understood droids. It shouldn't be so surprising, since half the galaxy believed that he _was _a droid himself, but it still confused her. Not many beings picked up on the language of machines. Vader must have spent a lot of time with them in order to master it.

Padmé scowled when she realized she was trying to piece together Vader's backstory. Vader didn't _have _a back story. He was just an evil thing that crawled up out of hell when Palpatine unleashed chaos in the galaxy. That was _all_. There was certainly nothing more to the demon.

There were boxes everywhere now. All across her room. Padmé, trying to take her mind off of certain individuals, hadn't even realized she possessed so much stuff. Where had it all come from? She certainly wasn't one to horde, but without a full sized apartment to spread her belongings out, it certainly appeared as though she did. The men that had brought everything up had been kind enough to take back the kitchen supplies and similar objects she had absolutely no use for while here. Her furniture, she'd been informed, had sadly been sold along with her apartment. All that time and effort she'd gone through to be patient and purchase the perfect thing, all that time to match everything and wait for the proper design so she could decorate her apartment, was now wasted. At least for her. She hoped that whoever ended up in her old place appreciated what she'd done and would take care of everything. Most of the furniture was imported, after all.

"What am I going to do with all this stuff?" she glanced over at her little droid. Even though she couldn't understand specifically what he'd say back, it made her feel better to just be able to talk and not feel like a crazy person.

R2 responded with several little bleeps and boops that sounded particularly snarky. It made Padmé smile. "Think I should toss it all out the window?" she guessed.

The droid chirped in delighted, rocking slightly in a 'nod.' The senator laughed. Lucky guess. "Yeah, because that would go over well," she rolled her eyes playfully at the little blue droid. "Can you even imagine the wrecks tossing out _one _dress would cause? Never mind this stuffed animal!" She held up her old stuffed shaak. She hadn't even known she'd brought it along to Coruscant.

Sitting back, Padmé surveyed her once clean room. What was she really going to do with all this stuff? She'd already filled up her desk and night stands with things she'd collected from around the galaxy. All of her other clothes had been put away and were hanging up. Her shoes, which she seemed to have more than she remembered, were all in the closet. All of her books and pads were now just sitting in boxes beside her desk, and there were pictures that needed to be hung.

There were three options that Padmé saw. The first and easiest, she could just keep the rest in boxes and stack them as neatly as possible in one corner of her room. The second and most dangerous, she could ask Lord Vader for a shelf…or six. And the third, she could try and talk his P.A. into getting her some shelving units.

It was no contest. Option three won the day. But not now. She'd have to wait until she was certain Vader was off planet. She couldn't remember if he'd given her a specific time he'd be leaving—probably not— but she'd already pushed his buttons enough today. She swore the man had so many mood swings it was liable to give her whiplash. There had to be a reason for his sudden violent changes in attitude, she just wished she knew what it was. What made this creature tick?

"Ugh!" Padmé stood up and flopped down on the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. Turning over, she grabbed a pad, and began writing all she knew of the Sith. She _had _to figure this out.

She labeled it simply "Enigma" just in case someone got a hold of it. Maybe if she studied him, analyzed, she could figure him out enough to anticipate his moves. So far he'd been erratic, calm one moment, flying off into a rage in the next. But there had to be a pattern here. What caused these violent spikes in temperament? She doubted very much that it was because he was going through some kind of Sith puberty. She shuddered the thought. _Had _Darth Vader ever gone through puberty? That didn't mesh well with the image of fully armored terror rising up out of hell very much.

But what did she know for _sure_? This information could potentially help others, so she might as well take this seriously. Well first, he never seemed to go anywhere without his helmet and never wore anything save the black getup he always had on. Not surprising. It was some sort of life support suit, she'd realized after a day or so. It wasn't just for intimidation, it had a function. Whatever the reason, he needed a respirator to breathe, though the reason for this and his species remained inconclusive at this time. That was all she could think about when it came to him physically. She didn't think she needed to mention his height. Everyone knew that. But what else?

He knew Galactic Standard and knew the droid binary. Sitting back, Padmé puzzled over this a moment. Only people who spent an outrageous amount of time with droids picked up on their binary, and only then did an individual actually understand them and not just a sense of what they said. Vader had been specific when he'd been yelling at R2. He'd understood _exactly _what R2 had said and had basically repeated it back to the droid to make his point. Vader was fluent, one might say.

It made sense if one prescribed to the theory that the creature was a droid himself, but Padmé didn't buy it. There was something organic in that armor, of that, she was certain. And if he had organic parts, he must have been alive once— whether or not he was truly alive now was debatable and was completely up to one's point of view. But if he had been truly alive once, he must have spent a lot of time with droids. Binary wasn't something someone picked up after listening for a while and taking classes. It was far too complex for that. Usually only people who grew up working on them could understand them as well as Vader apparently did. Which meant that as a younger whatever-he-was, he must have worked on droids?

It was a theory, at any rate. But if this strange concept of Vader actually having 'younger years' was true, that meant that he had to have worked somewhere where there were a lot of droids. The first place that came instantly to Padmé's mind was a spaceport. Or, it could have been some sort of mechanic shop. Either would make sense seeing as the creature owned an outrageous amount of ships in his hanger. He liked machines, which would explain his understanding of binary. But if he _had _worked somewhere else as a child and wasn't always the two meter terror he was today, then that meant that he must know other languages as well. No one that would work at a space port or mechanic or the like could get away very well with _not _knowing more.

So, so far all she had was that he wore all black, was tall, had to have some sort of organic parts to him, and was multilingual. But surely that's not _all _there was to him! There had to be more. In terms of temperament he was, of course, unstable. He obviously did not like being questioned, and begging only made things worse…but it hadn't for her, had it? She'd begged him for her stuff back and he'd given it to her. She'd begged him not to hurt R2 and he hadn't. Threatened, but not hurt. But thus far she hadn't heard or seen him do something like this. Maybe it was an isolated event? After all, he was preparing to go off planet, maybe he hadn't wanted to argue?

Padmé almost snorted at the idea. If there was one safe bet when it came to Vader, it was probably that he would argue with you no matter what. If he truly hadn't wanted to argue he'd have killed her or destroyed R2 before she could protest at all. No, today was an isolated event, though she didn't know what caused it. It couldn't be that he was in a good mood. She'd actually put him in a rather foul one before she'd asked for anything, so why had he been…generous?

If she tried to think about this more, she'd probably explode from pure frustration, so she might as well leave this as an extraordinary event that was never going to happen again. So what else did that leave? Well, there was the fact that he was impatient. To an extreme. He didn't like waiting and he didn't seem to like sitting still for long periods of time. The longest she'd ever seen him sit was when he was flying her to work.

And that was another thing. His flying! Force! She'd never seen or ridden with anyone so utterly _reckless_ before in her life! Somehow he managed to do things in a speeder that Padmé honestly hadn't known speeders were capable of. And half the time it didn't even seem like he was paying attention! It only solidified her belief that at some point in time Vader must have worked extensively with machines. He could very easily have been a racer the way he pushed the limits and attacked obstacles. Had she not had to ride with him while he was doing it, she might have been more impressed with this talent of his. But as it was, it scared her senseless half the time.

He also didn't like to talk very often, only when he had to. She could count on one hand the number of times they'd had conversations with one another that was longer than him telling her hurry up and her replying with an 'okay' or 'I'm coming.' Today was one of the rare occasions he spoke to her longer than thirty seconds. It was apparently a waste of time to communicate when not strictly necessary.

There was also the fact that he was a loner. Padmé could remember seeing events on the holo or even attending a few herself when Vader had supposedly been present, and not once had she seen him mingle. She'd always been told that he stayed around the edges of parties, technically in attendance, but not in the thick of it. It made her wonder if he was shy, awkward, or if he truly and deeply hated people so much that he could barely tolerate them and only came because it was required. It was probably the latter. But it begged the question, did he ever feel anything else? Could he feel awkward around others? Could he feel shy or uncomfortable? This was all assuming, however, that he _had _feelings. But still…

Padmé sat up, eyes wide. "What are you _doing_?" she growled at herself. Was she _trying _to make Vader more…human?

There were so many things wrong with that. First, he might not be human. Second, if she was trying to think of a back story or about his emotions, she was trying to attach herself to him. That _could not _happen. This creature was the one that nearly strangled the life out of her, for Force sake! He was rude, cruel, and just plain evil. This was the Slayer of Worlds! The Emperor's Hand! There were so many stories of him slaughtering innocents that there were no misunderstandings to be had. Darth Vader was _evil_.

But thinking this way went against everything that she'd been taught as a child. Her parents had told her that there was more to a person than what was presented at the surface. There was more to a person than what appeared in the now. Her father had once said that peoples' pasts shaped them into who they became, and one wrong step, one tragedy, could destroy a person until they were unrecognizable from whom they had been before. She'd seen it before when she'd helped at refugee camps and friends after they came back from war. Pity was the only way to combat a person then if they changed for the worst, and while it didn't excuse their behavior, you could always show compassion towards them for all that had wronged them.

So far, Padmé had always held this as a truth. She'd always tried to be compassionate and considerate towards others who had undergone great misfortunes, even if it was hard sometimes. Sometimes people became so bitter it was just plain hard, but you still had to try.

But it was different with Vader! She couldn't be compassionate or have pity for such a creature! It was impossible and it was _wrong_. There was so much blood on Vader's hands that one could flood worlds with it all. There were so many planets that were still recovering from one visit from the Sith. After only appearing in the world for three years, he had already done more damage that the entire Separatist Army! He was a single creature, but one of such immense power that it was truly unfair that such a being existed with that much authority. To see Darth Vader was to see death.

Even know all this, even hating the creature so very much, Padmé _still _found herself curious about him. What had happened to him to make him like this? What had he gone through in his life to lead him to this moment? What sort of being willingly became a twisted shell of a creature? Surely he could not _really _be happy?

"GAH!" This wasn't helping! She plopped down on the bed completely exasperated.

R2 made a concerned sound, drawing Padmé attention. She smiled weakly at the droid. "I think I'm going insane, Artoo." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Tell me, if you knew someone was evil, would you even bother to try and understand them?"

The droid rolled back, as if shocked and disgusted with the idea, probably knowing what she meant, and made a flurry of beeps, none of them sounding encouraging, but strangely cynical. It made her giggle. "Yeah, you're probably right," she flopped back down, looking at the ceiling. "They don't really deserve it."

But even as she said it, curiosity still burned brightly inside her, and she couldn't help but doubt herself. She didn't have to like him, it was pretty well an eternal fact, but for whatever reason, she wanted to know more. She wanted to know how Darth Vader came into existence.

**oOoOoOo**

The quest for seeking answers to Darth Vader's past was soon deemed an impossible mission, at least without gathering anymore more data on the subject. So, to occupy her time, Padmé went about finishing sorting her room. By the time sixteen-hundred hours rolled around, she thought perhaps she could chance venturing out into the open again. From the slight warmth in the air, the senator knew for a fact that Sith wasn't near, as then everything would be bitterly cold and dark feeling.

Walking towards the lift, she paused by the balcony, wondering how her earlier conversation with him had managed to get her back all her stuff. Surely there was no knowing Darth Vader. Perhaps he was just too much of a mystery to even try to puzzle together. That wouldn't stop her, though.

Once the lift had taken her down to the office floors, she was immediately stopped by a Storm Trooper that was stationed by the lift door. "Halt!"

Padmé stopped, working to keep the irritation from her face. "I need to speak with Lord Vader's personal assistant."

The trooper didn't seem to like that. "For what purpose?"

"Listen," she snapped, posting her hands on her hips. "Lord Vader said that if I required anything, his personal assistant would be available. Now, are you trying to defy his orders by not taking me to his P.A?"

That did the trick. The trooper signaled at his partner before gesturing for Padmé to follow. Apparently you could get a lot done around here by throwing Vader's name around. She would have to remember that. They twisted through the halls until finally they came outside the typical sterile door with a neat label on the outside that read "Lieutenant Pilor."

The trooper stepped forward and banged on the door. It was surprising that there were not dents in it now. After a moment, however, the door opened and the young man she had seen several times before talk to Vader stood in the door way, and annoyed, disdainful expression on his face. "Do you _have _to beat down my door?" he asked drily.

The trooper ignored this and instead jerked his head towards Padmé. "Senator wants to speak with you."

The lieutenant blinked in surprise before turning to stare at her. Straightening up, as though trying to be intimidating—but failing considering Padmé had spent more than a week in the general company of Darth Vader— the young man nodded and stepped aside while gesturing for her to enter. "I'll escort her to the lift when we're done."

The trooper nodded before walking off. When he was out of sight, the lieutenant closed the door, and turned to regard Padmé. She studied him as well, keeping her expression cool and professional. Oddly enough, after a moment, the young man began to squirm just a bit, and she realized that she was intimidating him. She wondered how that was possible since he spent more time with Vader than she did.

But he was nothing if not professional and gestured for her to take a seat opposite his desk. "What can I do for you, Senator?"

Sitting down as gracefully as possible, the young woman regarded the lieutenant for a moment. He was about her age, perhaps a year or so younger, and had black hair and interesting greenish eyes. His skin was olive and despite him trying to cover it, she detected a slight accent. He wasn't from Coruscant, that was clear, and it made her wonder where he was from.

"I understand that Lord Vader is off world now, correct?" she began as casually as possible.

Apparently that wasn't very wise because the young man immediately narrowed his eyes. "Why do you want to know, your highness?"

Of course it sounded suspicious, and Padmé could have laughed at his face at the moment. But she would take pity on the poor man. She could image what kind of threats Vader had given to him if she should do anything. She couldn't honestly let this boy get into trouble or a possible deadly situation just so she could tease him.

"I'll be honest with you," she said forwardly. "I need shelving units."

He blinked in surprise. "Oh." He paused. "Well, I suppose that's not unreasonable. What kind of shelving units?"

Padmé could have cried in joy. This was the first friendly Imperial that she'd met so far since coming to the base. Usually, when she'd seen him every other time, he was busily speaking to Vader, trying to get work done, and she hadn't really gotten a feel for his personality. Now, however, she could see herself getting to know and like this man.

"I need shelving for pads as well as other random assortments of things," she explained. "Nothing fancy…though I suppose that won't be a problem here." She looked around the bland room.

It surprised her when she heard an obvious and unprofessional snort escape the young officer. When she stared at him, his eyes widened before he flushed. He apparently hadn't meant to do that out loud. But when Padmé threw him a small, knowing smile, he relaxed slightly. "Ah, yes. Well," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "S-so how many shelving units will you need?"

"Well, I would say five or so." The lieutenant stared at her incredulously, before writing down her request anyway. When he was finished, he presumably began searching for shelves on the database. As she watched him work, she was suddenly overcome with a yearning for conversation that didn't involve yelling or becoming terrified for her life.

"So," she began. "What did you say your name was?"

The young man looked up, like a mynock caught in the headlights, before he regained his composure and began working again. "Sorry, your highness. I'm Lieutenant Arlo Pilor." He gave her a small smile.

"Senator Amidala," she introduced herself formally. "And there's no need to call me 'your highness.' I'm not Queen of Naboo anymore."

"But it's proper protocol and shows respect to you for serving your planet," Pilor began, looking confused. He was apparently a by-the-book kind of man.

Padmé smiled warmly at him. Sure he was an Imperial, but he was the first person in the whole base besides Vader who talked to her for more than a few grunts, like the trooper. And despite never actually talking to him before, she'd always seen him give her pitying glances when she was forced to and from Vader's wing. While she hated being pitied, she was sure the man's heart was in the right place. Besides, he had personality and she was in desperate need of some human interaction that wasn't work related.

"Just call me Amidala," she smiled, holding out a hand for him to shake.

The lieutenant seemed horrified for a moment, before tentatively taking her hand in his. "Arlo. Or Pilor. Whichever your prefer, your…Amidala."

The senator couldn't hide her amusement. "Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it. You know," she leaned back slightly in her chair. She knew she was stalling going back to her room, but she _needed _to stall. She couldn't take just sitting there staring at a wall anymore. "—you're the first one on this base that's acknowledged my existence beside the causal glance."

Arlo looked a little guilty. "Yes, well. Lord Vader wouldn't exactly be pleased if everyone came rushing over to you and wanted to sit down for a chat…By the way, is this all you needed? I'm not sure I'm supposed to be sitting around chatting with you, myself."

Padmé tried to hide her disappointment. "Yes, that was all," her smile slipped from her lips. "I wouldn't want to get you into trouble with Lord Vader."

To his credit, Pilor looked torn. It was clear he didn't like distressing her, but it was clearer that he didn't want to incur Vader's wrath. It was sad to think that the creature inspired such terror in his inferiors that even when he was off planet, they dared not bend any rules.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he stood. "Why don't I escort you back to the lift? If you need anything else, I'll try and get it for you."

"If it's within Vader's realm of 'reasonable'?" she stopped herself short from rolling her eyes. Arlo didn't dare answer. "Very well. Thank you for your help, again. You've been most kind."

The young man smiled as they left his office. "It's my pleasure, Senator. Again, if there's anything I can do, please don't be shy to ask me. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," she smiled again at him.

When she made it to the lift, Pilor paused and held up a hand briefly as a way of goodbye. "Goodnight, Senator Amidala."

"Good night, Lieutenant Pilor."

And when the lift doors shut, Padmé once again felt the weight of loneliness overcome her. The first really friendly conversation in a while and it had been in the shadow of fear of Vader. What was it about Vader that inspired such fear? Padmé herself was terrified of the creature, but why? Was it really just the way he looked? How he sounded? His strange powers? The combination of all of these?

No, it wasn't these things. She had met Jedi before who had similar powers or height. And there were plenty of males with lower voices. What was really so terrifying about the Sith was the fact that he didn't hold back. If someone made a mistake, he didn't just yell, he killed. He _used _his tremendous powers with no restraint. There was no moral line with him.

Stepping out of the lift, Padmé found herself drawn back to the balcony. Here she was, trapped with a creature that radiated evil, her whole life had been turned upside down, but the world was still turning. Life went on even though it felt like hers was over. Interesting how insignificant one life was to the outside world.

Sighing, she leaned forward on the rail, watching the speeders go by. Once more she wondered what it would be like to just jump off the balcony and into a waiting speeder. What would it be like to just run away, rushing through the skies at neck-breaking speeds? It would be the ultimate freedom, to defy the law, to defy gravity, to defy expectations.

…Was that why Vader did it? The thought entered her head before she could have stopped it. But the more she thought about it, the more plausible it could be. Even though she had been terrified at the time, Vader had essentially done what she'd dreamed about doing the whole time she'd been in captivity. As she recalled those horrifying stunts he'd pulled, she'd realized that it was exactly what most people fantasized about doing. No traffic law concerned him, no speed was too fast, no height was too high. He did what he wanted and soared through the skies.

As strange as it sounded, maybe there were times Vader looked off this balcony dreaming the same thing she was now. Maybe flying was his escape. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Vader was so busy all the time, she was pretty sure he didn't rest much. He had to go to meetings all the time, had to make plans, had to put down rebellion, had to hunt down enemies, and had to answer to the Emperor's beck and call. He was even stifled by his life support suit. He was trapped in responsibility and physical limitation. Maybe flying was his escape, his freedom. Maybe…

"What are you _doing_?!" she hissed, backing away from the balcony. Why was she doing this to herself? Why was she trying to make him into something that was worthy of life? There was no life in him! He was cold and empty!

Force, what if this was what the Emperor had wanted? Was she letting down her guard already? Had she been so long without proper socializing that she was desperate enough to try and humanize Darth Vader? When he got back, would she be so far gone that she wanted to actually _talk _to the Sith? What was _wrong _with her?

Stalking back to her room, Padmé flopped down on her bed, burying her face under her pillow. R2 made an inquiring sound, but she didn't bother to respond. Her mind was too busy berating herself over her own stupidity. Was there some way for her to un-think her thoughts? Some way she could stop herself from being curious? It wasn't the first time she'd wished to stop feeling like this, but it was certainly the most desperate she'd ever felt this way.

"Artoo," she rolled over, pulling the pillow off her face. "If I do anything crazy, please electrocute me."

R2 beeped in an unsettling fast, positive manner. She was about to ask why he so readily agreed when a surprised exclamation sounded. "Oh, dear!"

Startled, Padmé sat up, looking around wildly. "Threepio!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, forgive me, my lady," the protocol droid said, looking as flustered as a droid could. "I heard this astrodroid in here and was curious."

Looking between the two, she nodded slowly. She'd actually forgotten about 3PO with all the excitement today. "Of course. See-Threepio, this is Artoo-Detoo. Artoo, Threepio."

"Oh yes, we've become acquainted, my lady," 3PO exclaimed happily. "He has some very interesting stories programmed into his memory banks."

The astromech gave several protesting beeps, that Padmé expected was R2 defending himself, claiming they were true. It was amusing, especially as 3PO appeared taken back. "Oh! Oh dear! Surely you couldn't have been through all that!"

R2 responded in a way that Padmé could almost hear as being, "Damn straight I have!" It made her smile. She just hoped that R2 wouldn't tell any stories to anyone else, lest they realize that his memory hadn't been quite as erased as they'd thought, or discover his backup memory.

But worrying aside, she was thankful to have R2 back with her, and 3PO as well. They were her only companions now and maybe, just maybe they would occupy her mind enough so that she didn't have to try and humanize anyone else.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Does anyone else have the problem of psychoanalyzing someone to the point where you can't think completely bad of them anymore? Poor Padmé, but that's one problem some of us must suffer. It's strange what we think about when alone. But at least droids are fun. ^^

Reviews are very much appreciated and welcome!


	7. Chapter 7: Return

**Chapter Seven: Return**

By the time Vader was en route back to Coruscant, he was in a particular mood. When he'd first left the capital, the Sith had immediately gone to his room to meditate. After several hours, he'd immerged feeling energized. His senses had been sharpened and he felt more powerful than he had in weeks. By the time they'd arrived at Bimmisaari, the Bimm rebellion hadn't stood a chance. It had been almost too easy to make them pay for their disobedience. Now they would never forget that the Empire was the rightful authority in the galaxy.

When the Star Destroyer docked at the port just over Coruscant, Vader was already in his shuttle flying towards the planet. The crew had been terrorized enough with his presence the last five days, he felt confident that they wouldn't fall back into their laziness from before he'd walked on board. He'd only had to kill one officer this trip. Truly the navy was starting to get the message about how he liked ships to be run. Not for the first time the young Sith wondered what some of the officers would think if they knew he was younger than all of them and had such power. Imagining their expressions was delightful.

But by the time he came into the atmosphere, he contemplated what he should do next. He was in a mood to get things done, and done quickly. He hadn't felt this motivated in a while and wanted to take full advantage. But he also knew that the Emperor would be expecting a report soon. Perhaps it would be prudent to go to his master directly before focusing on other business. Yes, that would be for the best. If he buried himself too deeply into anything, he could potentially forget about his master completely. That would not go over well.

So, with that in mind, he headed for the Royal Palace. It seemed he was expected when he landed. There were several Royal Guards waiting for him as he stepped out of the shuttle, and without a word, led him towards the Throne Room. Their pace, however, annoyed the Sith. They were too slow for his liking, but they would not let him pass. It was all about presentation here, and it was nothing but a waste of time. But a waste of time that had to be suffered due to his master's tastes.

When he entered, his master was sitting upon this throne, talking with Grand Moff Turfon. The moment the Sith Master saw his apprentice, he held up a hand towards the Moff, silencing him. Vader bowed as he came to the foot of the throne. "Master," he greeted respectfully.

Sidious smiled in malicious pleasure. "Rise, my friend. Rise!" he greeted. "Leave us," he told the Moff, who looked slightly put off by being so dismissed. But he said nothing, apparently not wanting to make either Sith Lord angry. When he was out of the room, the elder Sith turned back to his apprentice. "What news do you bring for me, Lord Vader?"

"The Bimm uprisings have been crushed, my Master," he replied. "I captured the leaders and publicly executed them myself."

Sidious laughed. "Good! Good. What of the people?"

"Troopers have been left to ensure that peace remains. There will be no chance of rebellion of this scale to occur again."

The Emperor was grinning. "Excellent, Lord Vader. I sense you have become stronger."

"Yes, Master."

"Your hate is strong."

"Yes, Master."

Sidious leaned back on his throne. "Soon, my young friend, you will be strong enough to heal yourself, to be free of the suffering you have endured at the hands of the Jedi."

Vader sneered, but made sure his mental shields were up so that his master would not sense that anything was amiss. If only the old fool knew… It was good he didn't. "Yes, Master."

The Emperor sat for a moment, regarding him, before his smile turned absolutely wicked. "So tell me, Lord Vader. How is your guest?"

The younger man paused. "Guest, Master?"

Amusement fled the old man's features so quickly, that Vader feared he would be punished again. "Lord Vader," he said in an alarmingly calm voice. "You haven't let anything happen to Senator Amidala, have you?" Senator Amidala! He'd forgotten all about her for the last several days. "It would be unfortunate if she were dead," his master continued with a hard edge to his voice.

Feel much better about the situation, Vader nodded at his master. "She was alive when I left."

That was enough for his master, it seemed, as the older Sith relaxed ever so slightly. "Good. See to it that she stays that way."

After a pause, Vader couldn't contain his curiosity over the matter, and decided to risk speaking up. "As you wish, Master," he began respectfully. "But I am curious as to her importance. She is a traitor to the Empire. Why keep her alive?"

Apparently his master wasn't willing to let him in on the secret yet, as he asked instead, "Have you found any other traitors amongst the senate?"

"Suspects only," Vader replied crisply. "There is no hard evidence, but I am certain of several. Am I to detain them?"

"No," Sidious looked disinterested. "Let them be for now. When the time comes we will expose them and use them to serve as warning to any who dares defy us."

Within the helmet, Vader scowled. "Why not arrest them now, Master? Why risk the chance that they might cause chaos? I could kill them all."

"You could," the Emperor said coldly, "because you are too short sighted and dimwitted to see all the possibilities." Vader tensed at the insults. "I have foreseen their usefulness. That is all you need know," he snapped. "Now. Leave. See to Amidala."

A growl of frustration wanted to escape him, but Vader repressed it. Not back an hour and already he had to restrain himself. What he wouldn't give to be back out among the stars, flying, away from the capital and from his master. To be _free_…

But that was not his life. Bowing low, Vader rumbled a "Yes, Master," and dismissed himself.

It was a long, infuriated walk to the hanger bay, and the more he thought about his conversation with his master, the angrier he became. The flight back to the base took far too long for his liking, and yet it was far too short. It was strange, however, that he hadn't thought about Senator Amidala the entire time he'd been away, yet suddenly, now, he couldn't help think about how she'd be reacting to his piloting at this moment. No doubt she'd be curled up in her seat, squirming and gasping every time she thought he got too close to something. Which was ridiculous. He was in complete control at all times. She obviously had not heard that he was the best pilot in the galaxy. Perhaps he should inform her the next time she tried criticizing him.

When he returned to base, he stalked out of the shuttle, not bother to wait around for the welcoming committee to realize he was here and make hurried speeches about how glad they were he was back. Lies, all of it. It was a waste of time and resources, but then, his master was all about the pomp. He might be the Heir to the Empire, but that didn't mean he liked living like the rest of the spoiled nobility he had seen in the past.

It was fortunate that everyone stayed out of his way for the most part. His P.A. approached him with a pad in hand, which listed all the updates and reports that he might not have gotten while out on his mission. He took it from the lieutenant without a word and continued on to his chambers. Meditation was in order, but first, he had to make sure the Senator was indeed still alive. He mentally snorted when he recalled his master's accusation. What was he? The senator's keeper? In a way, he supposed he was, but the idea disturbed him. He didn't want to own anyone.

When he made it to his wing, he could sense that she was near. Her presence was a beacon. He'd forgotten how bright it was, how pure. He hated it. It was part of the reason why he hadn't been able to meditate properly before. If only he'd been able to just execute her. His life would be going so much smoother.

Not bothering to sound the com, Vader opened the door. He immediate wished he hadn't. His lack of patience would be the end of him, as he master always accused. Perhaps this was a reminder of why he should practice more patience.

The senator was sitting on the edge of her bed in nothing but a robe that covered her body completely…except for the long leg that slipped between the opening, exposing her appendage nearly completely up to her hip. The moment she saw him, however, she jumped and quickly covered herself appropriately. It came as a relief, although Vader wasn't sure why.

"Lord Vader!" the woman gasped as she stood, looking flustered. "Wh-when did you get back? Why didn't you _com_?!" she was nearly in hysterics.

But the Sith wasn't sure what to say. He shouldn't have to explain himself to this woman. He shouldn't have to make up excuses. So, instead, he stared at her for a moment longer, making sure that she appeared well, before he turned and left. There was no point in talking to her. As he now recalled, before he'd left, she hadn't wanted to know anything about this mission, as it had been too bloody and controversial to her. She was well and healthy, and that was all he'd wanted to know. If he'd wanted to actually talk to her, he would stay. But he didn't want to talk. Especially at the moment.

He turned and left her then, glad to hear the sound of the doors hissing closed behind him. For whatever reason, he suddenly got the bad feeling that all of his hard work in immersing himself into the Dark Side of the Force had all been for not now that he was back on Coruscant. First, his master wished for him to limit himself, to repress his anger and powers, and now he was back to sharing a living space with a woman who exuded light and…well… _other_ things.

When he entered his room, he marched straight over to his hyperbaric chamber and sat down. Carefully, he took off his helmet and mask and took a deep breath to calm himself. Just back from a mission and already he was yearning to be back out in space. If only his master would allow him to live on a ship! But that didn't look good for the Emperor's Heir. Vader had to be here on Coruscant, despite wanting to be anywhere else.

Looking about his dark room, Vader was suddenly seized by the sudden sensation of being trapped. It wasn't the first time he'd felt like this, but it was the first time he'd felt it this strong since he was first incased in this suit over three years ago. He didn't understand it, this feeling. Not really. Sure, he was limited by his work and master to go wherever he wanted, and he couldn't be without his suit for a little while longer yet, but there was something different about now as opposed to when he had felt like this in the past. Now there was an added element, and he couldn't figure out what it was.

Glancing back over at his blank screen, it was obvious that he wasn't going to get much done. Not now. He'd been so ready before his meeting with the Emperor, but now all Vader wanted to do was find something to do that he didn't have to think too extensively about. There was only one option for him.

Shoving his helmet back on, the Sith stormed out of his chambers and made his way to the hanger bay. No one stopped him, no one offered a 'welcome back' since last time he'd strangled a man for saying it. He hated insincerity from his personnel. He knew very well they all liked it better when he was gone. The thought, strangely, didn't please him at the moment. It only seemed to exacerbate his feeling of imprisonment.

An hour later found him working on one of the prototype shuttles that engineering had sent his way. These shuttles were hopefully to be equipped on all the Star Destroyer models, for transferring goods or troopers. It was a fairly solid design, with only a few bugs that still needed to be worked out. He would have to test fly it after he was finished working at some point. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he should see if he couldn't modify the wings so that they were more fuel efficient.

As he worked on the undercarriage, still pondering over design modifications, he found himself groping for the hydrospanner. He reached out, searching, when suddenly it was placed into his hand. Startled, he pulled himself out from underneath, and found himself staring at a blue astromech.

The two gazed at one another again, the droid appearing as nervous as a droid could, before it asked if that was the tool he was looking for. Vader ignored the question. "How did you get out of my wing?" he growled.

The droid answered with evasive explanations and excuses that didn't quite make any sense. He had never encountered a droid that talked around the answer to a direct question. Droids were made to obey and work, it was rare to find one with so much…personality. 'Eccentric,' as the senator had said, didn't quite do this little one justice, Vader could already tell.

After another pause, the Sith shook his head. "I doubt Threepio told you to find me," he said at last.

If a droid were capable of it, he knew that this little one would have been shuffling his feet. But eventually, it responded with something equivalent to, "Yeah, well, you know…" Eccentric indeed.

Looking the droid up and down once more, Vader turned back to his work now that he had the hydrospanner. The droid stayed as well, oddly enough. And after working in silence, it surprised the Sith by apologizing for the other day. Unable to work when having such an odd conversation, Vader sat up again.

"Did the senator put you up to this?" he frowned.

The droid shook and spun his dome in the negative, quickly explaining that it had felt badly for being so rude to him the other day. It was strange to hear a droid sincerely apologize for its behavior. Stranger still that Vader could _hear _the sincerity. Droids weren't supposed to have real emotions.

Again, a part of Vader couldn't help but reach out to the droid. He'd always liked droids, especially ones with character. Droids were better than people, as far as he was concerned and they were more easily fixed. He could fix droids. He couldn't fix people.

So after making the little machine wait apprehensively, the Sith turned back to his work. "What is your designation number?"

More beeps. "Artoo-Detoo," he nodded to himself. "Very well. You may stay here. But be warned, if you are in my way, or I find you plugged into anything you should not be, I will not hesitate to destroy you. Do we have an understanding?"

R2 made a shocked, but hurried reply, and it caused the Sith's lip to twitch in amusement. "Good. Now, if you're going to be a bother, at least be useful about it. You may hand me what I require."

Several hours passed by in surprisingly companionable occupation. The R2 unit was actually quite capable of handling the tasks Vader assigned to it, and was actually very astute. A few times it had even stopped the Dark Lord from making minor mistakes. They were nothing he wouldn't have seen after a moment or so, but it did save some of his precious time. The droid also didn't badger him with questions or chatter like 3PO had a tendency to do. Instead, there were times when the droid would make snarky comments about a tech at the other end of the hanger that he'd been watching, giving Vader an excuse to terrify people, which was always enjoyable. Over all, it was a rather relaxing—dare he say it— _fun _time. Not once in all that time did he have to think about big brown eyes or long legs.

When there was nothing else to be done, it was almost three in the morning. He escorted R2 back to his personal wing in silence. When they made it to the hall, he paused near the balcony and turned to the droid. It turned its sensory eyes up at him. "If I find you wandering around again, I will be forced to wipe your memory. If you continue to do it, I will deactivate you until you are needed. Am I understood?"

R2 whistled an acceptance before beeping out a question. It made Vader pause a moment, weighing his options. On the one hand, it would be a great help, but then again, he hadn't been at the top of his game since the senator had come to stay with him. Having her here brought out a side of him that he wanted to keep long buried, and this droid wasn't making that any better. But still…

"If I require your assistance, I will come gather you, and you may help me again," he agreed. Only a small part of him was overjoyed with the idea, the large half was angry, screaming at him that this was a very bad idea.

But he'd already said he'd do it. Vader wasn't known to back out of his promises. At least very often. So, he walked the droid to the senator's room and opened the door for it. As R2 rolled in, Vader paused and stared into the dark room. His visor within the helmet easily adjusted to the dark, and he could make out the sleeping woman in bed. Her Force presence blinded him, yet he found himself staring all the same. What was it about her? Why did she stir so many unwanted emotions within him?

Again, the Force swirled around him as he thought of her. It was whispering something to him, something that should have been obvious, but he couldn't hear. She was important, however, he understood that. Maybe the Emperor was right in keeping her alive. Maybe she really did have some sort of part to play that would see to righting the galaxy and making it the way it should be.

He just hoped he wouldn't regret letting her live.

**oOoOoOo**

Vader's mission to Bimmisaari had been all over the news several days later after he returned. Padmé watched reports in her office, scowling. Of course the news stations bespoke of the glorious victory of the Empire, of how it saved the planet from traitorous, dangerous rebels that would have surely destroyed it, before the brave Lord Vader came rushing to the rescue at the order of the wise Emperor Palpatine. It was all disgustingly cliché and false, and she could barely stomach to watch it. But she had to. She wanted to see if she could piece together the truth.

Of course there was always the option of just asking Vader for his take on events. No doubt he would tell her exactly what happened, but a part of her didn't want to hear the _absolute _truth of it. The gruesome details were not something she liked to dwell on. But then, she doubted the Sith would tell her anyway. He had become very withdrawn again, hardly speaking to her. It didn't seem as though he were avoiding her…_exactly, _but there was something going on with him.

Padmé hit her head on her desk, groaning. There she went, trying to come up with emotional motivations for Vader. Why was she doing this to herself? He was no better than a machine. Cold, lifeless, and dangerous. If she shot him, he probably wouldn't even feel it.

But she couldn't help it. For the first few days since his return, being around the Sith had been suffocating. It was like the evil cloud that had always surrounded him had doubled. But now it seemed to be fading back to 'normal' levels. She refused to believe that she could just be getting used to being around him. She didn't like to think that she was being desensitized from evil. But she could tell that he was calming down.

And she _still _couldn't believe that he'd walked into her room without signaling! True, she hadn't been indecent or anything, just her leg peeking out from her robe a bit, but nothing risqué. She'd been so embarrassed at the time, one would have thought he'd seen her naked! But after a while, as she thought about it, his reaction to the event puzzled her greatly. He'd just stood there, not saying a word. He'd stared for one, two, three minutes before he finally shut the door. What had he been looking for? Had he been somehow scanning her room? Maybe he'd been looking at all of the added shelves she'd gotten. Or maybe…maybe he'd been staring at her?

That was crazy. Vader didn't look at women unless he was going to slice them in half. Not once in the three years that the Sith had made his public debut had he gone anywhere near women. He didn't subscribe to the typical rich and powerful male. People in general were the targets for his contempt, and it didn't matter if they were male or female. Vader just hated people too much to get close to anyone. And Padmé had a feeling that relationships of any kind just weren't his thing. Relationships required a give and take, and an opening oneself up to show weaknesses to any other. _That _definitely did not sound like anything Vader would be into.

So what was with him? What made the creature tick? He was so unlike anyone she'd ever met it was physically exhausting to try and untangle the mysteries surrounding him. If you expected a normal being to react one way, Vader was the complete opposite of the opposite you thought. Just when you thought you understood a small part of him, he was suddenly reacting in ways that could never have been predicted.

For instance, before he'd left for the whole Bimmisaari excursion, he had been seething about R2. He hated him so much that he'd literally been right about to tear the little droid apart. He'd even had his lightsaber out and ready! But right before he left, he'd helped her pick up R2, and then just yesterday, R2 sounded like he was whistling a greeting towards the Dark Lord, and Vader actually nodded back. When had they become friendly?! It made no sense.

But then, Vader's reaction to droids was considerably different than with other sentient beings. He liked them better. Or it seemed as though he did since he kept a protocol droid like 3PO around. How anyone with such a short, violent temper could stand 3PO's worrying and bumbling about was a whole mystery unto itself.

In short, there was no 'figuring Lord Vader out.' It was like asking a being to condense the universe to fit into a single can of fruit. It wasn't going to happen. It was impossible. There was no consistency with Vader. He did what he wanted, reacted how he wanted. Maybe that's one of the aspects about him that made him so terrifying. One didn't know what to expect from him, so everyone had to be on their toes at all times. Coupled with his inconsistent mood, his disregard for life, and his strange powers, it was clear now why everyone feared him so. There was no reasoning with him, no begging. If Vader wanted you dead, he would kill you.

But he hadn't killed her.

Padmé groaned again at the thought. It was probably just because the Emperor wanted her alive. Everyone knew that when it came to subtly and diplomacy, Vader was about as useful as a charging Reek. His approach to politics was straight forward and completely brutal. Needless to say, the Emperor took care of a lot of the politics, so it was probably the Emperor who realized that killing her at the moment would only be counterproductive in securing his position and getting the Empire to fall into further submission. But even if it was ordered not to kill her, it didn't mean Vader wouldn't lose his temper and kill her in a fit of rage.

Yet he hadn't. There had been plenty of opportunity for him to snap, but he hadn't. She'd teased him, made him angry, begged, did many things that he was known to hate, and yet he had stayed his hand. Except for the first day when he'd choked her, he hadn't so much as touched her again. In fact, the few times she'd gotten carried away and reached out for _him _he'd shrank back so fast one would've thought she was poison. He didn't like touching unless he was the one to initiate it, it seemed. Yet another interesting little factoid about the Sith she'd picked up.

It was all too confusing. It was better not to think of Vader at all, yet that's all she found herself able to do. She was so isolated now, nothing seemed to take her mind off of him. She practically lived with him for Force sake! It's not like she could readily just forget he existed. He was always there, even when he wasn't. His presence seemed to be felt everywhere. That cold, dreadful feeling that shrouded him in darkness. It lingered in the air long after he'd gone, and now she was becoming used to it.

Indeed, the cold didn't bother her quiet as much, and the darkness, though oppressive and suffocating at first, was beginning to lose its potency. Even more disturbingly, however, was the fact that she was becoming used to being alone. She talked about politics at work, worked with a few other senators about bills, and slowly, very slowly, that was becoming enough. Slowly she was becoming acclimated into Lord Vader's way of life. Work and then isolation. She even found herself wanting to cry less and less over her situation.

How could anyone live this way? Live this way but have the choice to improve it and not taking it? To say that Vader was antisocial would be the understatement of the century. It was like saying Coruscant was busy. For whatever reason, reasons that Padmé simply couldn't fathom, he liked being alone. She, too, on occasion liked to get away and have her personal time, but like this? This was extreme. What had happened to Vader that made him this way? Had he had bad experiences with people when he was younger? Perhaps he'd been awkward as a child. Or maybe, more disturbingly, maybe he had suffered enough to make him hate humanity in general…

And there she went again! _Vader doesn't _have _a past! And stop victimizing him! _she scolded herself sternly. It was becoming harder and harder for her not to try to psychoanalyze him. It was not uncommon for her to chant in her head about how many beings he'd killed or tortured, and any other negative fact she could think of. But it was becoming hopeless. She was becoming obsessive and she couldn't stop. Vader wasn't like other beings. She wasn't even sure he even _was _some sort of creature at all. No, he was nothing. Nothing except pure evil, created by the Emperor.

Standing up, Padmé walked out into the suite, unable to be alone in her office anymore. She was about to ask her assistant what else she had scheduled today, when Senator Cotrilla barged in. _Wonderful, _she thought. _I have _that_ to deal with. _

Walking forward in greeting, Padmé put on a false smile. "Senator Cotrilla," she extended her hand, but the other woman refused to shake it. "How nice of you to join me."

The redhead gave her a superior look, before walking into Padmé's office uninvited. It was infuriating, but the Naboo senator kept her poise, even when Jar Jar gave her a look which clearly expressed his option of the other human. When she was certain no one else was looking, Padmé winked at the Gungan with a small smile, before turning back to the business at hand.

When she entered her office, she found Ritia sitting down in one of her more comfortable chairs near the window, glaring at her, as though she'd done something wrong. Calmly, Padmé closed the door and went to sit across from the redhead. "So, Senator, tell me what brings you here today?"

"Cut the poodoo, Amidala," Cotrilla snapped. "I want to know what's going on between you and the Imperial Navy."

Padmé frowned, but was unable to keep her contempt of the other woman out of her expression. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Amidala, even if you're good at it. It's been _weeks _now, and we've seen more of Lord Vader here than we have since the creation of the Empire. Not to mention you don't go _anywhere _without a trooper. So what's going on?" she demanded.

While Padmé prided herself of being a tolerant person, she had to admit she couldn't be with this woman. "Everyone was sent a report about the rebel attempt to get rid of me," she gave the other woman a cool expression. "It was all in the report."

"But that was weeks ago," Ritia pushed. "And since when did you ever gain the Emperor's favoritism?"

"I've always been his favorite," Padmé used the Emperor's own taunt to taunt the woman before her. It was somewhat ironic.

Cotrilla, however, didn't seem impressed. In fact, her face became a red as her hair. "That's a load of shit, and you know it! You've only ever spoke out against the Empire! Why on Coruscant would he suddenly want to protect you from rebels? Everyone would agree that we'd be able to get a lot more done if you just died," she spat. "What good are you?"

"She is of very great importance," a chillingly deep voice said from the doorway following by the all too familiar ominous hissing of a respirator.

Both women jumped in surprised, turning to stare at the Dark Lord. How in the seven layers of Sith hell had he been able to sneak up on them? Vader was probably one of the loudest beings she'd ever encountered, yet he'd been able to open the door and listen to them without them even knowing it. Was this some sort of Force power or had they really been arguing that heatedly?

"L-Lord Vader!" Cotrilla shot to her feet, nervously pushing her hair behind her ears.

Padmé stood much more gracefully. "Lord Vader," she greeted calmly. "Forgive me, but I'm in the middle of a meeting with Senator Cotrilla."

"Your meeting with this woman is finished," the Sith said haughtily. "Come with me."

Although she didn't like being bossed around by him, Padmé had to admit she was relieved that the Sith had come. Strange, she would rather be with him than Ritia. Would wonders ever cease?

"Please excuse me, Senator," Padmé smiled again in faux-regret. "But I must see to this. Perhaps we can discuss this at a later date?"

Cotrilla looked between her and Vader and then back again before she shook her head. "N-no. That won't be necessary. Good day. Good day, Lord Vader."

The Sith didn't even acknowledge her as he waited impatiently for Padmé. The brunette woman didn't bother to see the other out, and instead was forced to walk out with Vader. They had just gotten out into the hallway, when Padmé turned to look up at the creature in black. "Where are we going?"

"To the cafeteria."

She frowned. "It's not noon. And you hate the cafeteria."

"Would you rather have continued sitting there talking to that woman?"

Was that a threat? Padmé looked away, not entirely successful at keeping her lips from upturning slightly. "An early lunch it is."

Would wonders ever cease?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hope you're all liking it so far, but I have to tell you that the **M **rating will soon be coming into effect. So be prepared.

R2 would really like to hear from everyone, by the way. Drop him a comment! Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8: Confusion

**Chapter Eight: Confusion**

He had to stop this. It was becoming too much of a habit with him lately. Habits were things to be broken. Habits were potentially dangerous. They meant becoming complacent. Sith Lords could not afford the luxury. Luxury in general was not something a Sith apprentice could get away with, anyway.

Sitting in his hyperbaric chamber, Vader sat contemplating the very great mystery that was Senator Amidala. What was it about her that drove him into fits of frustrated anger? What was it about her that made him want to choke the life out of her? What was it about her that always made him listen more intently when she spoke or make him pause when she made a point? What was she that could cause the great Lord Darth Vader to think about her more than he thought about anyone else save the Emperor himself?

This was dangerous, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. Against all training, against his better judgment, he was curious, and his curiosity had to be fulfilled. Who was Senator Amidala? The question burned in his mind, and he would find out.

It didn't take long for him to find her information records. With his security clearance, he had access to every private file she had. Her medical records, her dental, her schooling, anything that he wanted to know about her. But he wasn't interested if she had ever had her tonsils taken out, however, so he skipped that sort of information, and went straight to her basic history.

Padmé Naberrie. Amidala was her regal name. Interesting. He'd always known that Amidala wasn't her birth name, but at the same time, he'd never really stopped to wonder what her real name even was. Padmé. He'd never heard a name like it before. Padmé.

She was born twenty-five years ago, in the spring in the lake country. There was a picture of the little mountain village near the lake. It was…beautiful. Vader wasn't sure he'd been to a planet that looked so completely _serene_ before. It begged the question of if everywhere on the planet was as beautiful as where the senator grew up. It didn't seem likely that a whole planet could look like this. But then there were worlds that were consistent across. One planet instantly came to mind, covered in so much coarse sand and merciless heat…

But Naboo was much different than _that _planet, however. It all seemed to be a green, lush sort of place. Reading on, he was beginning to understand why she fought so hard to protect it eleven years ago from the Separatists. It was impressive, actually, how young she had been when elected Queen of Naboo. It seemed like a terrible idea to him to have one so young in charge of an entire planet. But then, Amidala had done a rather good job, or at least everyone else thought so. She'd nearly ruined his master's plans, but in the end, it worked out better for all involved. And she had protected her planet against all odds, and Vader found he had to respect her for that. Vader, too, had to admit that when he stepped forward into power, he hadn't been much older.

After her astonishing rise to power at such a young age, and after the war, Amidala had gone on to be one of the most powerful and influential queens that Naboo had ever had. She managed to get more done than any past royal in the last century. She was then elected to serve in the senate one year before the Empire was official created. And in that time of being in the senate, she'd been a powerhouse, speaking out against Imperial dominance and against the Clone War, while still maintaining respect throughout the galaxy.

Now she resided here, in his care, and despite her precarious position, she still managed to stir up controversy and trouble. Nothing could go smoothly with Senator Amidala around. Frustratingly enough, people listened to her. Even Vader had to admit she was strangely compelling when she was passionate.

Sitting back, the young Sith looked over her considerable list of accomplishments. When she was young, she helped out the poor and refugees, was elected at fourteen as Queen of Naboo, navigated a successful war, created better relations with the native Gungan peoples, passed reforms, opened better welfare programs, created new jobs, and the list went on. She was a doer, something that Vader could appreciate, but she was unfortunately misguided. Her belief in democracy was naïve and foolish. It was dangerous.

He was scrolling through her political agenda when he stopped, something catching his eye. It was a holo. An old picture by the looks of it, but still clear and recognizable. Underneath it said, "Official Naberrie Family Portrait."

It was her! It was Amidala, only as a child. And she had a family. A real family. She had a mother and father and a sister, even. It took a moment for Vader to determine which girl was in fact the senator, but only for a moment. She was the younger, meaning she had an older sister. For some reason, he couldn't tear his eyes off of the portrait. Of the family.

An uncharacteristic ache filled Vader's chest as he continued to study the picture. It had been a long time since he'd thought about families, and it infuriated him now to be thinking of it again. He had forgotten what it felt like to yearn for such a thing, but now he was remembering all too clearly. It wasn't worth it, and he tried to forget about it, but couldn't. The way they all looked, so happy and carefree, so peaceful.

It wasn't fair! Why had the senator been blessed with so much? Why had she been born into a family with means on a beautiful homeworld, with obviously loving parents and a sibling, a good education, and plenty of opportunities? Why did she get such a perfect life when so many other beings in the galaxy didn't? What made her so special that she was fortunate like this? Why had her life been perfect while his had been…

But none of that mattered now. Her perfect life had gotten her into trouble with the Empire, and he despite having scratch and claw his way to the top, he had made it, even as she was tumbling down. People like Amidala were born lucky, but luck always ran out. Vader, on the other hand, had worked and suffered to achieve all that he had. He _made _his luck, he didn't have to rely on anyone else. In the end, he was stronger and he held the power. Who cared if the senator had a family? Had love? It was all a waste of time, and family only ever abandoned you.

This was wrong. He knew that from the beginning, and now he suffered the consequences. He closed down the files he'd pulled and sat staring at the blank screen for a while, trying to rebury the past. The past wouldn't help him. Men like Vader had only to look forward to the future. For men like Vader, the past could be potentially crippling.

Unfortunately for him, the future contained Senator Amidala. He couldn't get away from her, and he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was always there, in the back of his mind. Everything about the woman bespoke of her privileged upbringing in the way she moved, spoke, and carried herself. In many ways she was demanding and expectant, even of Vader, a quality he despised. He'd had to deal with such beings before in the past and hated them. But now he was the one with power, and those tormentors were probably still living in poverty on that horrid dust ball in the Outter Rim.

And there he was, thinking of _that _place again. He had to stop this. It was damaging. How could he properly maintain his anger and hatred when he was too busy thinking of the past and of _her. _Of those damn brown eyes haunted him, sparking in anger, fear, hate, pleading. But there was also a kindness to those eyes, a softness. It reminded him far too much of another set of brown eyes he had not seen in many, many years…

"_Stop_!" he cried out, grabbing the side of his head in agonizing misery. Why was this happening to him? Why did all of these infernal memories come now? It had been over a decade since he'd last thought of them. Why now? Why did they seem connected to the senator?

He needed to get out of this room. He needed to get out of this _life_. Unfortunately, he had to stay around Coruscant on his master's orders. But he couldn't stand to be in this dark room anymore. He felt suffocated. He needed to release this built up anger.

Shoving his helmet back onto his head, Vader stalked out of the room and went to the training area to practice his sparing. Hopeful he could smash and destroy these memories away.

**oOoOoOo**

A week later, it was quiet. Too quiet for Padmé's liking. When she came to work she liked there to be noise because when she went back to the base and forced into her room, it was far too silent. The vote over how troopers should be tried was this afternoon, but despite the controversy, there wasn't a lot of chatter around the building. Did everyone else know something she didn't?

She was walking from Senator Wittiom's office after discussing the proposition of a trade agreement, when she thought she heard noise. It was none of her business really, and she had to get back to her office so she could finally be rid of the Storm Trooper trailing her, but she was finding she was too curious to resist. It had been so quiet around the senate, yet now she heard something. Maybe she could find out what was going on.

Although she wasn't sure why, something told her she should be quiet. She didn't like disturbing the quiet; it was like some unspoken rule. It was lucky for her that she didn't have to tell the trooper to be quiet, as he was always silent anyway. Just a quick look to see who it was, maybe inquire as to what was going on, before she went back to her office to get ready for the senate to convene. She turned to look at the trooper, but he was just following with an almost indifferent manner.

When she turned the corner, Padmé could now make out distinct grunting noises. And they were coming from the 'fresher. It didn't sound pleasant, whatever it was, but curiosity would always be her downfall. Maybe someone was hurt and had fallen in there and now couldn't get up? It wouldn't be the first time it'd happened here. Some of the senators were quite old. Turning to the trooper, she nodded towards the door. "I'll be right back."

Thankfully, the trooper didn't bother to argue this time, and simply posted himself outside. Satisfied that he wasn't going to insist on making sure she didn't do anything _traitorous _while in the 'fresher, Padmé walked in. It only took her a moment to discover the source of the noise. What she saw was definitely _not _what she had been thinking.

"Force!" she exclaimed in absolute disgust.

Two surprised gasps sounded at about that time, and hurriedly, one naval captain jumped about a meter away from Ritia Cotrilla all the while trying to pull up his trousers. Ritia, who had been sitting on the counter of the sink, was hastily pulling down her skirt. Padmé couldn't quite avert her eyes and continued to stare at them both in surprised revolution.

The captain was beat red, and once he was done adjusting his pants, all but ran from the 'fresher, only giving a slight nod as he left. Seeing him leave helped pull Padmé from her shock, and she rushed out of the 'fresher as well. The trooper guard was still standing out there, watching as the captain ran, before he turned to look back at his charge. Padmé was about to leave, when the 'fresher door opened again, this time revealing a disheveled Ritia. "Wait, Amidala," she began, but trailed off when she noticed the trooper.

The moment the trooper saw the redhead, however, he did something that Padmé had never heard from a trooper, something she hadn't thought they were capable of. He burst out laughing. Not a chuckle, not a giggle, a full out belly laugh. The kind that hurt after a while, but you kept laughing anyway. Had Padmé not been so horrified, she might have joined in laughing simply because it sounded oddly infectious.

Ritia turned bright red, her mouth opening and closing, before she stormed off, looking suspiciously close to crying. Padmé almost went after her, but then stopped. She wasn't friends with that woman, and her comfort wouldn't go over very well. Instead, she turned her attention back to the hysterical trooper, who was now doubled over he was laughing so hard. After about another full minute or so, he straightened up, still giggling, before he jerked a thumb over his shoulder and asked, "Was that Oquier?"

It was the first time he had ever volunteered to speak, but all Padmé could do was nod, not really knowing the captain's name. The trooper began chuckling again, actually rubbing his hands together in vicious glee. "I can't _wait _to tell the boys! What was that bink's name?"

"Senator Cotrilla?"

The trooper laughed again. "This day just got a lot less boring."

Shaking her head, trying to get the images of what she'd seen in the 'fresher out of her head, Padmé began walking back to her office with a strangely happy Storm Trooper. She had never heard one laugh before, and it all felt too surreal. Turning to the clone, she regarded him for a moment. "What did you say your name was?"

"CT-585," he responded instantly, becoming much more professional again.

"Right…but do you have a name?"

"No," he said bluntly, but then apparently thought better of it. "Never got enough combat experience to get a nickname."

He sounded almost sad. Padmé had often wondered how the clones felt, having so many others exactly like you running around. "Well, you've certainly served plenty here at the senate. I'm surprised you haven't gone insane from boredom yet."

"It's not so bad," the trooper actually shrugged, continuing to surprise the senator with his conversation. "I once had to stand guard over the Imperial Treasury. _That _was boring. No one even walked by except to change guards."

Padmé nodded. "I could see that. Have you been in many battles?"

"A few. Mostly at Corellia to put down the rebellions at the beginning. Now _that _had been a real job," he sighed wistfully. Padmé found herself feeling sorry for the trooper, even if she didn't agree with what he fought for. It wasn't his fault, anyway. He'd been bred to believe what he did.

"Then why don't I just call you Cory?" she suggested. "It sort of shows where you were last stationed in action, and it even begins with your first serial letter."

The trooper actually stopped walking for a moment, and Padmé could almost see the smile break across the clone's helmeted face. "Cory," he said slowly. "Yeah. I like the sound of that! Cory."

"Well, good!" Padmé smiled back. By this time they'd made it outside the office suit. "I need to gather a few things before going to the senate. I'll be right out, Cory."

"Very good, Senator," the trooper nodded, before posting himself by the door. He was now back into his professional mode, but Padmé found herself not caring. She'd actually managed to have a conversation with a Storm Trooper! She'd even helped him with a nickname. Maybe she really could survive all this.

**oOoOoOo**

Several hours later, after the senate was released, Padmé managed to convince Cory to let her go to the cafeteria to get something to drink. Really, she wanted to go on a walk to clear her head, but she needed a better reason than that. It hadn't been very pretty in there. The issue with the courts was becoming hotter and hotter and no one had really come to any decisions about what to do. But all that business aside, it was really amazing what being nice to a Storm Trooper could accomplish. After just one talk, she had somehow gained a little more freedom to leave her office without a real business related item.

She had just gotten into the cafeteria and paid for a Chandrilan tea, when a flash of red caught her attention. When she turned, she saw Cotrilla stalking towards her once more, looking much more put together than the last time she'd seen her. When the other woman got to her, the brunette nodded. "Senator," she greeted neutrally.

"You have no right to judge me!" Ritia hissed. "What you saw was private and none of your business!"

"Of course," Padmé agreed, blowing on her tea. "I didn't want it to be any of my business. But I would suggest that the next time you want an intimate moment, you don't have it in a public 'fresher."

The redhead flushed. "You think you're so much better than me, don't you, Amidala?" Cotrilla was all but foaming at the mouth by now. "Well, you're not! Some of us don't have wealthy parents to mooch off of and use to get ahead in life."

"Right," the younger woman stopped herself short of rolling her eyes. "And some of us don't whore ourselves out to get ahead in life and actually have to _work_."

Ritia was visibly shaking with rage. "You don't understand the real world, Amidala! Not everyone could be born into the perfect little family like you. Not everyone had the assets you had. Some of us have to use whatever we have at our disposal."

"Even if it means degrading yourself?" Padmé spat in disgust. "Have you no self-respect? Have you no shame?"

Cotrilla glared down her nose at the other woman, which only made Padmé's blood boil. "You obviously have been living in a fantasy world your whole life," she spat. "In the real world, you don't get something for nothing and you have to be willing to give anything."

"I'll keep my self-respect, thank you," this time she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"You have no reason to judge me, Amidala!" Ritia cried again. "Say what you will, but at least I'm not under guard all the time. I bet you're nothing but a rebel traitor yourself!"

"Obviously. That's why I'm still alive," Padmé responded drily.

When Ritia looked like she was really going to start clawing her eyes out, Cory stepped forward, blaster in hand and trained on the other woman. "I'm going to have to ask you to step away from Senator Amidala," he said plainly, not an ounce of respect or sympathy in his voice. He was once again just a trooper doing his job.

The other senator stared at the trooper incredulously. "Who do you think you are to be ordering me around?"

Cory powered up his weapon, pointing it at her chest now. "I'm the one with the blaster," he growled. "Now stand down, ma'am."

Now it was Cotrilla's turn to appear nervous. "You can't do anything to me, I'm a senator!" she cried. "What would your superiors say?"

"I would say 'Good work'."

All three turned in time to see Lord Vader stalking into the cafeteria. Padmé found herself instantly pleased before she could stop herself. When she realized what she was thinking and feeling, she crushed it immediately. But still, the last time Vader had been around when Ritia had wanted to have a serious conversation with her the Sith had saved her. Interesting how he always came right in the nick of time, like some sort of Black Knight. A disturbing image, but not completely inaccurate in this case.

Once more, while in the presence of the Dark Lord, Ritia began messing with her hair, trying to make herself more presentable. _Better keep working, _Padmé thought as she recalled the other woman's activities today. It had been quite the exercise, after all.

"Lord Vader," Cotrilla breathed. "What brings you here, my lord?"

"The feeling that my charge was being threaten," he replied darkly. "What's going on here?"

Padmé wasn't sure if he was being completely serious or not. But before she could speak, or Ritia for that matter, Cory stepped forward. "Sir, this woman was harassing Senator Amidala."

Cotrilla paled. "I-I wasn't…I mean, I was just—"

"Why were you harassing Senator Amidala?" Vader demanded, suddenly becoming more threatening. Curious reaction.

"I-I-I—"

"Answer me!"

"She was just embarrassed about something I saw earlier and she didn't want me to say anything," Padmé explained quickly as she noticed the Sith raising hand in a familiar strangling gesture. She might hate Cotrilla, but that didn't mean she wanted the other woman dead.

"What did you see?" he demanded, now turning on her.

Padmé shared a glance with the other woman who was deathly pale. When she didn't answer soon enough, the Sith took a dangerous step towards Padmé, and for one horrifying moment, she thought he was going to grab her neck again. Instead of her neck, however, he grabbed her by her upper arm, dragging her forward. "What did you see?"

The small woman gasped in surprise and pain, but she couldn't focus on that too long. This was the first time she had ever been so close to his mask. Not even when he'd choked her had she been so close to him. It went against her theory that he didn't like being close to anyone. Now she was just a short span away from his face. Despite her terror, she found herself trying to see through his mask, trying to see if she could make out his actual eyes. She found herself searching for anything _human _in him.

But when she didn't respond, and Vader's grip began to relax ever so slightly, Cory spoke up. "She walked in on Senator Cotrilla fucking Captain Oquier in the female 'fresher, Sir."

At the word 'fucking,' Vader was released from the spell he'd fallen into, and turned to stare at the trooper while simultaneously releasing his victim. "What?" It was the first time Padmé had heard such obvious shock in his voice. And was that an almost embarrassed inflection she detected?

"I-I can explain!" Ritia stepped forward. "It's not what she thought, what you think! I certainly wasn't…wasn't making love to the captain—"

"Not what it sounded like to me, lady," Cory snorted. "Sounded like you and the Cap were swapping DNA."

Ritia was blushing, and so was Padmé. She never knew that clones could be so shameless. But then, they were soldiers, and soldiers tended to speak more crudely than most. They were also especially blunt individuals. Maybe that's why Vader liked them. There were so many holopics of Vader with the troops while there were so few of him with anyone else.

When Ritia didn't respond right away and was left gaping at the trooper for his lack of finesse, Vader straighten up to his full height. "I see," he rumbled, sounding thoughtful. "Trooper," he went on. "See Senator Cotrilla back to her office. Then find Captain Oquier. I would like a word with him."

Cory saluted. "Yes, Sir!"

As the trooper corralled Ritia away, her protests could be heard down the hall, but the trooper was nothing if not efficient and he was able to easily get her out of the room. Padmé watched with an uncomfortable feeling coming over her. Turning back, she found herself alone with the Sith. She shivered. The air around them seemed different than any other time she'd been with him. It was still cold, still dark, but there was a strange, static feeing that permeated the air, filling the room, swirled with anger on the outside. It made her feel increasingly uncomfortable.

"Listen, it's no big deal," she began, fighting not to ring her hands together. She had the horrible feeling that someone would die because of this little stunt. "Everyone knew that Senator Cotrilla was…that she has quite the…_amorous_ personality. We all knew she liked to get friendly with officers. It's not like—"

"You all knew but turned a blind eye towards it?" Vader hissed, taking a step forward. "Is this how the Emperor's senate is run? Through bribes and sex trades?"

"What? No!" Padmé began shaking her head, but the Sith was only becoming more agitated.

"This is a _disgrace_!" he growled. "And you defend democracy! How could the galaxy be run by such people that would sell themselves just to line their pockets with more credits? People who don't really care about the galaxy at all?"

"Cotrilla isn't the normal senator," Padmé snapped, unable to help herself. "She only got the position because of sleeping with _your _officers! She would have never have gotten this far if she hadn't curried the favor of your men!"

"And you are telling me that this sort of thing didn't happen before?" He stabbed a finger out at her. "That all senators before the Empire were virtuous people who never took bribes or slept their way to the top?"

"No," she admitted bitterly. She couldn't lie, even to him. "But it hasn't gotten any better _since_ the formation of the Empire."

He seemed to be struggling with something, something that Padmé didn't even understand. Why was he getting so angry about this? Surely he must have run into similar corruption within the Imperial Navy? In the palace, even! Unless, somehow, such scandals were kept from Vader's ears for fear that he would destroy everyone involved? Maybe this was just the result of his frustration and hatred of the senate finally built up enough into something tangible he could grasp and he would make the most of it to release his anger?

After another moment of just standing listening to his breathing, the Sith stared down at her. "And what of you?" he said slowly. "What sort of deals have you made to get into your current position?"

The world stopped turning for one eternal moment. The two stared at one another before slowly Padmé's face became steadily redder. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger was anyone's guess. Had he just insinuated—

"How _dare _you!" she whispered hoarsely, eyes narrowing into slits. "H-how _dare _you accuse me of something so foul! I have _never _made such corrupt deals in my _life_! I've worked hard to get where I am today, I've worked hard to get into politics on my own!"

Vader stood with his arms crossed over his chest in an antagonizing manner. Did he not believe her? Or was he just trying to make her angry? It was working, in any case. She was angry, furious even. No one had _ever _dared accuse her of such a thing. Padmé had always worked hard to avoid such scandalous accusations. She had worked so hard to avoid it that she had very few romantic encounters to speak of as a result. Her love life was probably as barren and void as the Jedi. But to hear someone accuse her…

"I've never slept with anyone!" she snapped, furious with his silence. "How dare you even suggest such a thing! My career has only ever been based off of my own work. I never used anyone to get ahead like that!"

His continued silence continued to frustrate and irritate her, but slowly, the Sith uncrossed his arms. Eventually, the air went back to just being the regular cold darkness that she had come to associate with him. He was still angry, but probably only because one of his officers was caught in a scandal, one that Cory hadn't made sound any better than what it was. Why had this upset him so badly?

Again, Padmé found herself searching his mask, trying to pick up any trace of humanity. There had to be something under that mask. What was it? For whatever reason, she itched to know. She almost ached. Surely there had to be more to this creature than just this. There had to be life in some form or other.

But she never got a chance to speak. Instead, Vader gestured for her to walk, and the senator had to oblige. They walked in silence all the way back to her office. For the first time in a while, Vader entered with her, and when in her office, he sat down near the window while she went to her desk. Without Cory to guard her, he was apparently going to do it himself. It was a little disturbing, to have him so close after their small fight, but she couldn't exactly tell him to get out.

He pulled out a pad from one of his belt pouches and began working even as she did. They worked in silence in a strange sort of companionship. Padmé wasn't sure if this was some sort of progress or not. One could never tell when it came to the Sith. But what was for sure was that things were going to get a lot more awkward between them, especially since she blew up at him in the cafeteria. Force, she'd even admitted she was a virgin. She couldn't stand the thought of him being amused by that.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, Vader all but dragged her out and pushed her into the speeder. It was a strangely careful push. And after the silent ride back to the base, Padmé found herself sitting alone in her room, feeling oddly confused. What was going on?

She was just thinking about turning on the news when R2 came rolling up to her, beeping excitedly.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Confusion all around! That's what happens when you're alone with basically only one other person. And if you didn't catch it, Padmé's twenty-five, which would make Vader twenty. What's going on with R2? Find out next time, when a little more **M **seeps into the tale.

Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks for all the kind words so far!


	9. Chapter 9: Discoveries

**Chapter Nine: Discoveries **

Padmé stared at the little droid in front of her in confusion. He was beeping quite frantically. She frowned at R2 wondering what he was so excited about. She was about to call 3PO, when the astromech rolled over and began bumping into the bed until her pad fell off.

Scowling over at him, she bent over to pick it up, when R2 began beeping wildly. After a moment, her eyes lit up. "Oh! Can I plug this into you?"

The droid beeped in a positive manner, and so Padmé held up the pad and R2 plugged in. After a moment, R2 beeped again. On the screen, a question popped up: "Is it working?"

"It works!" the senator grinned. "I never knew that you had some sort of drive to do this."

R2 seemed to hesitate a moment before admitting, "I tricked a technician into putting in the proper outlet."

The senator's eyes widened in disbelief. "How did you manage to do _that_?" she hissed.

The droid beeped out a long complicating story, which translated into essentially tricking 3PO into letting the astromech into tagging along for chores, and then basically making 3PO ask for the modifications. It made Padmé thankful that the droid wasn't a sentient being. Who _knows _what sort of terror he could inflict upon everyone else? In fact, it made her wonder if he and Vader could have been some sort of friends…if Vader even _had _friends.

"But be sure to look like you're working," R2 went on before Padmé could reply. "The droid monitoring the cams is programmed to pick up any suspicious activities as well as trigger words. Pretend you're reading."

Well, this was certainly new. Taking orders from a droid. But then, Padmé didn't exactly have much choice. R2, the sneaking little thing, had somehow managed to find ways around the Vader imprisonment barriers. It shouldn't have surprised her, since she suspected the Dark Lord might even like the astomech, though he'd never say it. But still, it was impressive that he could get away with this when in a military base.

"Okay," Padmé lowered her voice, nodded as though reading something on the pad, trying to hide the connection it shared with R2. "So what are the trigger words?" she mumbled just loud enough for the droid to hear.

R2 brought up a list of obviously suspicious words. Much of it had to do with anything political, anything related to current events, or related to the military or navy. Padmé almost snorted when she saw that Vader had put his own name and the Emperors. They were quite obvious, so she was glad she hadn't been thinking out loud recently. There were even planet names that were off limits and guarded. Most of them made sense, though a few were suspicious. Like what was on Despayre, Rinn, or Geonosis? And what the hell could be on Tatooine? She could hardly even remember where that planet even was, let alone what could be important about it.

But this was all very useful information if shifted through carefully. Some of these topics could very well be guarded projects that the Empire was afraid might be in rebel hands. Vader had told her bluntly that he knew she was involved with the rebels, so it made sense that he could be panicked if she spoke of such subjects. This was all very good information the rebels would like to look into.

"How did you come by this?" she muttered.

"3PO got me access to the main computer terminal in Lord Vader's chambers."

Brown eyes went wide and Padmé had to force herself from showing too much surprise. "You've been _inside _his room?" she whispered hoarsely. "R2, that's _dangerous_! You could have been caught!" she paused a moment, becoming too curious. "What's _in _there, anyway?"

"Not a lot," came the blunt reply.

"Won't he realize what you've done? He'll destroy you for sure!"

"The security droid won't say anything because it wasn't suspicious activities." Somehow, the senator got the feeling her droid was being smug. "I went in with Threepio and had clearance. The droid is only programmed to alert Vader if one of the triggers is detected."

The senator blew out a steadying breath, pushing her hair out of her face. How in the galaxy had she managed to get such a droid? The last time she checked, astromechs were designed to help repair things, not go on secret missions and collect data. "Be careful, Artoo," she responded at last. "I don't want you getting hurt."

The little droid all but shrugged off her concern, before becoming still again, informing her that he'd also found out about a secret military project. Frowning, she looked up at the droid in dread. Secret military projects were not good news. For anyone. She waited patiently for the droid to continue, but he didn't really respond, just brought up a single term: Imperial Planetary Ore Extractor.

"What…" she frowned. "Did you get any more information?"

She'd heard something about this before, but she hadn't really thought much of it. It sounded like some sort of Imperial propaganda program to make the Empire look stronger. While it didn't sound necessarily humanitarian friendly, it didn't sound all that bad. Instead, it just sounded like a stunt to make everyone impressed. But if R2 was bringing this up, it meant that he deemed it important. After another moment, another name appeared: DS-1 Orbital Battle Station.

A battle station? Apparently R2 hadn't been able to get much information as he apologized for not being able to tell her more about it. So, the Empire was disguising a weapon as some sort of workers project? It shouldn't surprise her, but she was becoming more and more concerned. What did it mean by _battle _station? What sort of monstrosity were they constructing? Was this like a Star Destroyer, or was this something much worse? This hadto be looked into, hopefully they had time before it was made public.

"Artoo," she said slowly. "This information hasto be given to the Alliance."

"I can't do it!" the droid beeped out immediately. "Anything I send will be monitored as extensively as you're being watched."

"You can't trick Threepio somehow and get this away?" she frowned.

The droid shook his dome in a negative manner, and the screen read, "Sorry."

Padmé sat back, thinking, allowing the pad to be pulled from R2's connection. Of course R2 was right. He was in deep as it was. She didn't want him to risk himself any further on this. She couldn't lose him. He was one of the few things that was keeping her sane. She hadn't asked this of her little friend, but he apparently believed that it was his duty to help her. _This would be wonderful if I could get more information, _she thought. Being unable to help her friends for so long she found she was actually excited to be able do something again. But how could she do this?

The most obvious thing was to pass this information on to Bail or Mon when she was at the senate. But that would be difficult considering Cory was always around when she met with other senators. And then there was Vader to consider. She had the sinking suspicion that he was watching them too. And even if he wasn't spying, the Sith always made it a point to sit in on those meets when it was with her friends. He was not afraid to intimidate her or them. As a result, both Bail and Mon had stopped trying to make any sort of contact with her, even business related.

Maybe she could slip a pad with this information to them? She would have to think of some sort of excuse to meet with them. But if they read it while she was still there, and with Vader…that wouldn't be very good. She would need to explain everything to them. But she couldn't very well leave a message within. She had a feeling Vader would detect it. He somehow knew everything. She even had the suspicion that he had droids monitoring what she wrote and read when she was at work. And this information was _definitely _a trigger. It would be safer if she just told them about it, but she couldn't.

A sigh escaped her. This was harder than it should have been. Ridiculously so. If she brought a pad from 'home' it would look suspicious. If she wrote down this information, she would risk it being detected. She couldn't talk to her friends without it looking suspicious and it wouldn't be private, in any case. How in the galaxy was she going to do this? She neededto get this information to the Alliance. She had a very bad feeling that if she didn't, the galaxy would suffer more than it already had.

"How can we do this, Artoo?" she sighed, flopping back on the bed. Her options weren't looking very good.

She was about to ask if he knew any more information, when the com sounded. She had only enough time to sit up and smooth out her dress before it opened. Her face immediately paled. It was Vader. Of course, who else would it be? But her mind was racing. Why was he here? Had he heard her conversation with R2? Had he been alerted of suspicious activity? Did he _know _R2 had been hacking into the base account?

But she couldn't let on that anything was wrong. Instead, she stood up and walked over to the Sith, who hadn't technically stepped into the room. "Lord Vader," she began neutrally. "What can I do for you?"

Vader looked down at her for just a moment, before he finally spoke. "I am called away," he said simply. "The same rules apply from the last time."

He was turning to leave, but Padmé found herself reaching out. "Wait!" She actually managed to grab his hand before he could get away. As expected— for once— Vader jerked his hand away, staring at her in fury, and for just a moment, the senator thought she could almost sense panic. But that was preposterous. It wasn't as though she could attack him. At least not very successfully. He really just must not like being touched unless he initiated it.

Instead of asking, he just stood waiting for her to say something this time. He'd probably gotten used to her ways by now. That was a disturbing thought.

"Wait," she began again. "I just wanted to…about this afternoon—"

"That issue no longer relevant," he waved her off as he turned to leave.

"It's still an issue with me," she posted her hands on her hips. "I'm still mad about what you said to me."

"If you're expecting an apology, forget it," he growled, crossing his arms again. "It was a reasonable assumption based upon past experience and how you responded to the news."

"Yes, it might have been logical, but it wasn't exactly _reasonable_," she snapped. "Listen, I wasn't expecting an apology. I'm not that naïve. I'm not even looking for you to understand how the senate works in any form or any sort of politics. I just want you to know that not everyone is like Cotrilla, that not all senators are bad. Some of us care. Some of us want peace and order in the galaxy, just like you."

Vader's breathing filled a suddenly awkward air between them. Padmé actually had no idea why she even bothered, but something was nagging at her. The events of the day wouldn't leave her alone. Things were about to become more complicated, and if he was going to start accusing her of things, she wanted to make sure that at least they were all true. Her reputation was extremely important to her.

"Did Artoo put you up to this?"

Padmé was floored. "Wha— No!" What did R2 have to do with this? "I just wanted to show you that we don't have to fight all the time. That we actually have things in common. Granted, they're not very many," she added quickly, suddenly wishing she hadn't said anything at all, but having to push forward, despite being disturbed by the idea, "but we do have them. I'm tired of getting into arguments with you all the time."

"Then I would suggest you keep quiet and it wouldn't happen."

The senator had to fight the urge to start screaming in frustration. "You're hysterical," she said drily. "But I'm trying here. Why can't you meet me half way?"

"Because I _don't _negotiate," he snarled.

"So you'd rather gain peace and order by simply destroying everyone and everything until there's nothing left?"

"If I had to."

How could anyone be like this? She found herself hating him all over again. "I bet you'd kill your own family if you thought it would bring order!"

She hadn't thought before she spoke, but she regretted it immediate. He went completely ridged, almost like she'd struck him. He just stood there breathing, and she stood staring with wide eyes. She could feel the hatred and fury building up inside the Sith. Unconsciously, she started to back away. She'd crossed a line. She wasn't sure what line it was, but it had definitely been there.

But after a tense moment, the Sith surprised her by responding softly, "I don't _have _family," before he stormed away without so much as a backwards glance. When the lift doors closed, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He was gone, and he hadn't even yelled at her. He would be gone for days and she would be safe.

She dreaded, however, when he returned.

**oOoOoOo**

That night, Padmé didn't sleep well. She dreamed of her family. They were all suffering, locked in chains and beaten. They looked like slaves and she had the choice of either saving them or delivering the secret information about the Imperial battle station. It was as though she didn't have a will and delivered the plans without thinking, having to watch her family's horrified, betrayed expressions as she left them in their misery.

When she'd woken, she was cold and shaking. But it had only been a dream, she kept telling herself. It wasn't real. And she had to think of a way to get these plans to the Alliance. She refused to stop and think about how far she'd go to deliver those plans.

Before going to the senate, she'd memorized as many planets on the list as she could, along with the exact name of the battle station and its code name. Maybe she could find an opportunity somehow today. It was worth a shot.

When she stepped out of the lift, she was delighted to see CT-585 waiting for her. As always. "Good morning, Cory," she gave him a slight smile.

He surprised her, by actually responding. "Good morning, Senator."

Lieutenant Pilor was also there, and seemed shocked that the trooper spoke so politely to her. She gave him a secretive smirk. "Good morning, Arlo."

"Good morning, Senator Amidala" Pilor nodded. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," she nodded and followed the trooper and lieutenant to the hanger. Arlo drove them to the senate. Even though these two were nice enough to her, she was hesitant to call them friends. She was a rebel sympathizer, after all. She couldn't even talk to them without them fearing the repercussions of Lord Vader. But still, if she was going to have a chance at delivering the information she'd gained to Bail or Mon, it would be now, while Vader was away and men she was on friendlier terms with were watching over her.

Once at the senate, Padmé fell into her normal routine. She tried to make sure everything was as normal as possible, in fact. She only stopped working once lunch rolled around. When it was noon, she decided her time had come. She had one plan that came to mind and it was time to test it out.

As she walked out into the hallway, she found Cory standing guard. She smiled at him, before gesturing towards the cafeteria. "Ready to go?"

He didn't respond. He wasn't in as good a mood as yesterday. But then, finding an officer in the middle of scandal was hard to beat. But it was nothing she wasn't used to, and she knew it was nothing against her. This was just how all clones were programmed.

Half way to their destination, Padmé decided it was time to initiate the plan. "Cory," she began casually. "When I eat lunch, what exactly do you do?"

For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer, but eventually he responded. "I stand guard over you, of course. Like always."

"Right," she nodded, allowing concern to fill her voice. "When do _you _get lunch?"

"When I'm off duty."

She frowned. Now that she thought about it, she really was concerned. She found herself feeling sorry for the trooper. "But that's at _dinner _time."

"Right," Cory nodded. "I eat then."

"So you spend the whole day not eating until night time?"

"Exactly."

"That's horrible." And she meant it. She felt guilty that he couldn't even eat while he was guarding her.

"It's not so bad. I eat twice a day. Better than most beings."

"Still…Say, why don't you go on lunch break while I do?" she suggested. "You can get something to eat, take a break for an hour."

"I can't abandon my duties," he replied instantly. She got the feeling he was catching on to the fact that she had something up her sleeve.

"Of course not," she agreed. "But I just feel bad that you can't eat while I get to. That's not very fair."

"Life's not very fair."

He really wasn't making this easy. "Isn't there a way you can get a lunch break when I do?"

They came to a stop right outside the cafeteria doors. Padmé could see Bail and Mon inside. If only she could convince Cory to just take a break for ten minutes! Ten minutes was all she needed! Damn Storm Trooper loyalty!

"There _is _one way," he began thoughtfully. "I'll see you inside first."

The senator smiled, nodding eagerly. Was it really this simple? She thanked the Force she'd taken the time to be nice to this clone and to give him an excuse to talk to her yesterday. This was exactly what she needed. If she could have, she would've kissed Cory. "Sounds good," she agreed.

They entered the cafeteria together and Padmé went and ordered her food before choosing a seat near the windows, alone, as was becoming custom for her. When she took her seat, Cory actually set down his blaster next to her before he walked away. She was surprised, but tried to hide it. Her eyes trailed the Storm Trooper, waiting until he was out of her sight before she could get up and talk to her friends.

It soon became apparent, however, that this wasn't going to be an option. Instead of leaving, Cory went through the line again, and came back to sit with her at the table with a tray of food. Once he was comfortable, he pulled off his helmet and grinned at her. Even though her plan had failed, Padmé couldn't help but smile back. At least she'd helped out someone.

"You know, Senator," Cory began, speaking even as he chewed his food. "You're one of the few people I've run across that cares about us troopers. You're all right."

"Thanks." It was hard to rally her spirits after this disappointment. But then, she'd been foolish enough to believe it'd be easy. "And you're the first Storm Trooper to actually talk to me for more than a word or two."

"Yeah, we're not known for chatting," he grinned before stuffing his mouth full again. "You sure you don't mind being seen eatin' with me?"

Despite how deplorable his manners were, and the fact that she could see everything in his mouth when he chewed, it was still better than eating alone. And it was much better than having either Cory or Vader stand over her while she ate. "Not at all."

"Huh," Cory frowned thoughtfully. "Most people think we're an abomination. Don't want to be seen with us. You're the first big-shot I've seen that even tries to be nice and talk to troopers. Well, except Lord Vader. He talks to us."

Even though she knew she shouldn't feel this way, Padmé found herself once more impressed. Vader was a horrible, terrible monster, but he did take the time to talk to the fighting man. In fact, he was one of the few commanding officers that actually went into battle with his men. If there was nothing else, at least that was admirable about the Sith. He wasn't just a leader to these men, he was also comrade.

"Yes, I've heard that," she nodded, distantly wondering what she could do now that Cory had taken this as an invitation to eat lunch with her rather than having some time to himself. She'd assumed he'd be like Vader, but that had been a terrible presumption. Clones were social, liked being with their brothers. Vader was a Sith that despised everything and a loner. It was her fault for forgetting that.

Lunch went by in a surprisingly sociable manner. It was odd to see Cory without his helmet, but even stranger to know that there were thousands of men out there that looked like him. She didn't bring up that fact, however, and tried to treat Cory the same as she would anyone else, even though he was the enemy. Besides, it wasn't his fault he served evil. It was how he was programed.

It turned out that he was not like Vader in another respect: he liked to talk. At least when it was something he was passionate about. Padmé asked questions about his past expeditions on Corellia, and soon found herself listening to several interesting tales of grim battles. She knew Corellia hadn't gone down without a fight, and from the way Cory described it, it sounded like they made the Empire work for their submission. She hadn't expected any less.

They received several curious stares, of course, from other senators and personnel. But this was an actual pleasant conversation—except for the gory details Cory seemed to think necessary— and she wasn't going to give it up. For an entire hour they talked, and it was only when lunch was over and Cory put back on his helmet, intent to get back to work, that Padmé remembered how lonely she was. R2 had been great to have around, but he wasn't the same thing as a living being to talk to. It was almost pathetic how much she ached to be able to talk to someone. Cory had been great, but she'd had to watch what she said. She wanted to be around those that she didn'thave to.

There hadto be away to get Vader to let her talk to someone normal! It had been _months _since she'd first been imprisoned in his care. She missed her friends and her family. She wasn't sure she'd gone so long without contacting her family. They must be worried sick about her, especially since she hadn't been able to tell the queen anything particularly comforting. What was she going to do?

All thoughts of lonliness and family fled, however, when Cory bumped her side with his elbow. "Watch out, Senator," he said in an unexpectedly playful tone. "There goes Oquier's little 'fresher wench."

Looking over, Padmé saw Cotrilla. The other woman wasn't even near them, but Cory's voice carried enough that a lot of people heard him…and turned to see where the trooper was looking. Ritia's face went blank before she stormed away. Even though a part of her wanted to laugh, Padmé couldn't help but feel sorry for the other woman. How desperate had she really been to have to sleep with people to get anywhere in life?

"Shh, Cory," she scolded. "That wasn't very nice."

"Neither was she," he responded bluntly. He really didn't care about her, which was a bit chilling. She really wasn't on Naboo anymore. Her people always seemed so much friendlier than those here on Coruscant.

When she made it back to her office, Padmé sat down, after thanking Cory for the lunch. Work was harder to get done now than before. For some reason, she kept thinking about Naboo. It was so much different than Coruscant. The same truths didn't hold true here as they did there. Cotrilla had told her as much. On Naboo, everyone was given a chance. How was it that a woman like Ritia had to use her body to even get any notice? Again, she wondered how desperate the redhead had to have been when she first made the decision to give herself up as a sacrifice. Maybe it had all started because she had nothing and needed to help her family?

Padmé's dream entered her mind again, and she shivered at the thought. If it had been between her family's lives or her own body, a part of her knew she would rather make the sacrifice than her family. It was chilling to even think about, so she tried not to.

**oOoOoOo**

Vader stood overlooking the construction site of the Death Star on Despayre. There had been complaint that the Wookiee workers had been giving trouble to their overlords, and the Emperor had sent him to investigate. Of course when he arrived, there seemed to be nothing amiss. But still, his presence seemed to increase efficiency. The threat of him coming must have ended the trouble, and his presence ensured that no one was going to be acting up for a very long, long time.

But unlike the last trip off Coruscant, Vader was not pleased. Being away was always a delight, but unlike last time, he was not focused. He'd tried to meditate on the _Vengeance _on the way over, but his thoughts were too troubled. The senator's words kept bouncing around in his head viciously. _I bet you'd kill your own family if you thought it would bring order!_

He closed his eyes, trying not to remember, but it was hard. Very hard. He always felt a stab of pain as he thought back to that fateful day. He'd been so young, he hadn't realized what he was doing. Had it really been his fault? He'd blamed himself for so many years, but it didn't change the facts. It didn't bring _her _back…

This wasn't how a Sith Lord was supposed to act. A Sith was not to feel guilt, nor concern. A Sith looked to the future, for power. So why then could he not escape the snares of the past? Why did he feel this way? Why did he _care_?

Senator Amidala didn't know how it felt to have nothing, and then to lose what little you had. She didn't understand that order was all he had left. He had his power, but there were moments when it just…didn't seem worth it. It was a shameful admittance for a Sith, but he couldn't help but feel this way. All he'd ever wanted he could not have. Not now anyway. He'd sold his soul to hell to get where he was now, and he'd enjoyed it. Didn't he?

Staring down at the Wookiees, he couldn't help the dread that settled over him as he watched them labor. He knew how it felt. He knew how it felt to be forced to do what you didn't want to. To work until your hands bled. To go to bed hungry. To hear loved ones cry and moan in agony. There had once been a time when he'd vowed to free all the slaves in the galaxy. _Now look at yourself, _a voice whispered in his mind. _You're the monster enslaving them_.

But he'd grown up since these poisonous thoughts. He understood the real world. Not everything could be perfect. Not everyone could be free. Sometimes, for the good of the whole, you had to sacrifice others. These slaves were working on something so important, it would benefit the galaxy once it was completed! Who cares if thousands of Wookiees here were enslaved? Who cares if millions of other beings were enslaved elsewhere? What _was _important was the fact that their suffering would not be in vain. Those slaves within the Empire were laboring so that the rest of the trillions of beings didn't have to. So that everyone else could live and be free and safe.

But for whatever reason, the excuse didn't sound so good to him now. In fact, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Just as it did when he thought too extensively about the thousands of beings he'd killed. At the time it'd always seem so right, felt so _good_! But there were instants, like now or when he slept, when he was trapped, and his crimes weighed heavily upon his heart. He never even realized he still had a heart until those poignant moments.

What had he become? He was trapped in this life now, however, and he couldn't change it. _She _might be gone, but maybe it was for the best. She would have hated what he's done, what he's become. She would have hated _him. _He couldn't stand the thought of that. He had always cursed the Force that he hadn't been able to fix her, but maybe it was all for the better. It had saved her a broken heart, at the very least.

It was a bitter comfort, and it didn't release Vader from the crushing loneliness. He deserved to feel like this, however. In the back of his mind, he'd always know. Men like him didn't deserve families, didn't deserve to have anyone care about him. Not after all he'd done. All he wants to do. But that didn't stop him from yearning. Maybe one day, when his master was gone, he could find something to ease this ache. Or maybe one day he could just forget. How wonderful it would be to just not remember. It was at times like these he wished he was a droid so he wasn't cursed with these feelings.

"Lord Vader." Turning, he found himself staring at a young man, only the rank of cadet on his collar. He was from the _Vengeance's _crew.

"What is it?" he snapped. He didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

The young man appeared worried before he straightened up and was the picture of composure. He would make a fine commanding officer one day if he showed aptitude for it. "Sir, Captain Oquier's been brought down in binders. What are your orders?"

The Sith felt a wicked sense of pleasure in punishing this man for his crimes. There really was nothing good left in him. "He is to be stripped of his command and rank. He is now _Ensign _Oquier. Assign him to something here. I don't care what."

The cadet bowed slightly. "Very good , my lord."

With that punishment delivered, Vader turned back to watch the slow progress on the planet below. It was time to harden himself again. The Dark Side was waiting for him. Nothing else mattered now. He _had _nothing else now. It was time to look towards the future, before he was driven mad by the past.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Not much to say here.

Reviews? :3


	10. Chapter 10: Desperation

**Warning: **This chapter is rated **M** for sensitive subjects and content. If you don't like or get offended easily, please don't read.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Desperation**

She was absolutely crazy. She knew she had been cracking for a while, but now she had finally snapped. It couldn't be helped. She'd been alone for so long it made sense. But oh how she wished she could have held on to sanity for just a little bit longer!

It had all started the day after she had first had lunch with Cory. Rumor about Cotrilla's little rendezvous with Captain Oquier in the 'fresher had spread throughout the senate like wildfire. The poor woman could hardly walk into a room without people just stopping their whisperings about her. Some _still _whispered about her when she was in the room. Even though she didn't like her, Padmé felt terrible for the other senator. In a way, this was her fault. She'd been the one to discover them. Had she not been so curious as to what the sound was, no one would have found them. Well…maybe someone would have.

But what was so annoying was the fact that _everyone _talked about it. She couldn't get away from the talk. All anyone seemed able to speak about was the scandal. It was annoying. It made her feel horrible because, for whatever reason, she couldn't stop trying to see the event from Ritia's point of view. Maybe she had a good reason? Desperation could lead a person to go to the extremes.

Which brought her back into insanity. As she'd been pondering over a new plan, to get information to the Alliance, it had come to her as a simple thought, one spawned of boredom, desperation, and sarcasm. But even though it had originally been a joke, it had stuck. No matter how hard she tried to forget it, it wouldn't go away. It was so ludicrous, crass, and just plain suicidal that it had been burned her into her brain. It scarred her and she dreamed about it.

_No, no, no,_ she shook her head for the millionth time. This _had _to stop, before she actually went through with it.

But here she was, sitting up late at night, thinking about _him_. What made it all the more terrifying was the fact that she was becoming desperate. When Padmé became desperate, she did very crazy things. Things that were dangerous and could very well make her regret.

Padmé Naberrie Amidala wasn't exactly known for playing it safe. If she had been known to be more cautious, Naboo might have been completely taken over by Separatists or worse by now. She could never sit down while she could do something to help. Like now. It was her moral obligation to get this information to the Alliance. She _had _to do whatever it took. Even if it was crazy. Even if she would never be able to live with herself again…

Padmé stood and went and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was down and she was in her nightgown. It was twenty-three hundred hours. Lord Vader had gotten back several hours ago. He'd been gone for nearly a week, and during all that time she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. About this insane plan.

_I can't do this_, she sighed, grabbing the counter of the sink for support. How could she? It was crazy! It would never work! And yet the idea just would not let her rest.

But the more she thought about it, the more it appeared as though it were her only option. She hadn't been able to talk Arlo or Cory into anything with Vader gone. Vader was the heart and soul of all of this anyway. If she were going to try and trick or negotiate anything, it had to be with him. And even though the Sith had infamously told her he didn't negotiate, she was going to _make _him listen to her. She just needed to have the proper leverage over him, the proper bribe, even if she didn't like the term.

This would only make her look like a hypocrite, she knew. After the way she'd yelled at him a week ago, how she berated Cotrilla. But the other woman had been right. Padmé had been living in a dream, a place where she thought talking reasonably and pointing out facts would be good enough. It wasn't. Not with men like Vader. Power was the only thing the Sith cared about. And there was only one power that he didn't have that Padmé could give.

She let her head drop to her chest. But could she give it to him? Sleeping with Darth Vader was not just crazy, it was potentially deadly. He could very well kill her after he'd used her. But she had to try. She could negotiate this with him. An hour of unscreened, unmonitored conversation with friends every day in exchanged for giving her body to him every night.

It would never work. Vader would be too suspicious. He would know she's up to something, or that she _could _get up to something. And there was the obvious fact that thus far he hadn't responded positively to being touched. Hard to bribe anyone with sex if they didn't like being touched. And then there was the ambiguity of his sexuality and species. Would he even be interest? Thus far he'd appeared Asexual, and if he wasn't, were their species even compatible? She'd never seen him respond to women of any species at all. He was just so indifferent. He would never go for this.

But what if he did? She'd had dreams of this for almost a full week now, ever since the thought had entered her head. Nightmares, really. But they were always the same. She refused to put aside her pride, put her reputation in front of everything and everyone else, and the galaxy had suffered for it. Her family had suffered. Even though she wasn't sure why, Padmé had the desperate feeling that this information _had _to get to the Alliance. She was only one person in the grand scheme of things. Her life was insignificant compared to the whole. So what if she suffered? So what if she even died? Her life wasn't worth endangering the galaxy. She had to _try_.

Brown eyes opened to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Piercing panic and revulsion shot through her. How could she do this? She would be ashamed of herself for the rest of her life if she did this. That is, if Vader didn't kill her before that. Vader was the vilest creature she could image, save perhaps the Emperor. Could she really live with herself if she allowed him to touch her in the most intimate manner possible? What would she tell her future husband? Could she ever look into any man's eyes again and not be reminded of _him_? Could she look into anyone's eyes again and not feel disgust for herself?

Vader wouldn't go for this. She'd been watching him for months and _nothing _had pointed to her that he was interested in being physical with anyone. People were expendable to him, and he'd said himself that he only kept droids here in his wing. Ritia had tried flirting with him and he'd only showed her contempt and hatred. He hadn't treated Padmé much better.

_That's not true,_ an annoyingly analytical voice in her head reminded her. He'd choked her that first day, yes, but since then he'd not touched her much. He'd grabbed her shoulders a week ago, but eased his grip, as though realizing he was hurting her. And the same day, he'd guided her into the speed, touching her back ever so slightly. But those could have been nothing. They _were _nothing. But he'd also let her get away with yelling at him, talking back, being late, giving into her demands when she'd wanted her things back, and more peculiarly, he'd saved her that one day when Ritia had come to her office to yell at her. He'd also allowed her to eat in the cafeteria, even though he hated it. What did it all mean?

These instances were _not _consistent with his reputation. But then, what _was_? Darth Vader did whatever the hell Darth Vader wanted. Stay within the norm didn't apply to him.

The more she thought about this crazy plan, the more reasons for it to fail kept popping up in her mind, but also, the more she felt she needed to try. There was something telling her to go for it. Her gut, despite churning with fear and loathing, was telling her she had to do this. Padmé Naberrie Amidala did not give into fears, and she did not ignore her gut feelings.

She would hate herself for the rest of her life, she knew, but at the same time, she'd hate herself if she didn't do this. It was a choice between hating herself for the rest of her life or hating herself for all eternity. _This is important_! she kept chanting to herself, even as she made sure all her makeup was still in place. This was her most desperate hour, and there were no Jedi around to help her this time. This time, Padmé had to do this. _Alone_.

When she entered her bedroom again, she grabbed her outer silk robe and pulled it on, tying it at the side. She began to shake, but she swallowed her fear. This was wrong, but it _had _to be done. As she walked out into the hall, she repeated the story she would tell over and over into her head. She had to make this convincing.

A gasp escaped her when the door at the end of the hall opened. She spun around in a panic, afraid that it was the Dark Lord himself. She wasn't ready to face him just quite yet! But to her relief, it was merely C-3PO scuttling out of Vader's quarters.

The moment the droid saw her, he came bustling over. "Good evening, my lady! Do you need anything?"

"Yes, I…" she trailed off, trying to find her courage. "Um…D-do you know where Lord Vader is?"

"He's in the conference room just there," the droid pointed to one of the doors down the hall.

"Oh. He's in a meeting? At this time of night?" Her more cowardice side was relieved. Maybe this could wait until tomorrow.

"Oh no," 3PO exclaimed cheerfully. "He's merely working on reports. Do you need to speak with him?"

"I…Yes. Yes I do." It was lucky that the protocol droid hadn't picked up on how nervous she was yet. Or maybe he had and just hadn't mentioned it.

"Well, I'm sure he has some time you could schedule for tomorrow. Should I go inform him that you wish to set up a meeting?"

"No," Padmé shook her head, pulling her robe around herself more securely. "I need to speak with him now. Just for a minute. Do you think you can show me to the conference room?"

Of course 3PO was ecstatic about helping her, and showed her to the door of the room immediately. She had to tell him several times that he didn't need to announce her or go in with her. This was just something she had to do on her own. So when the worried droid was finally away and going about his normal duties, Padmé took several moments just outside of the door, taking deep breaths. She could do this. She _had _to do this. There was no other way. This was important and this information had to get to the Alliance. So after one last deep breath, she opened the door.

The room looked like any other: bland, clean, and completely empty save for a long table and chairs all around. Vader sat at the head on the other side by the window with pads and holos all around him. His head snapped up the moment the door opened to reveal her. Padmé stayed just at the entrance.

They stared at one another for several long moments before Padmé plucked up some courage and simply said, "Good evening."

The Sith didn't respond, just stared, before looking back down at his work. "What do you want?"

His anger and rudeness was familiar in this unfamiliar situation. She latched on to it, strangely comforted by it. "May I come in?" she asked quietly.

"No," he said shortly, already shutting down the holos that were up. "You are not to be here while I'm working. This is classified information."

Naturally her curiosity was peaked, but she couldn't think about the secrets right before her now. Not with everything else going on in her mind. "I'm sorry," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "But I really need to talk to you."

"Then talk."

"In _private_."

The Sith looked over at her again, and it made Padmé wish she could see his expression. He'd be a lot easier to read if it weren't for that damned mask. "Senator," he said, crossing his arms. The act made him look arrogant when he sat as opposed to threatening like when he stood. It was obviously a habit, but it was strange how height made all the difference. "We are the only two sentient beings on this floor. How much more private could it be?"

Padmé forced herself not to squirm or feel embarrassed. Vader was in a strangely lenient mood at the moment, she should take advantage. It was rare, after all. Maybe she'd get to live to see tomorrow. "_Please_?" she asked, crossing her own arms, but more from being cold than to intimidation.

Vader paused for only a moment, before he gathered up all the pads around him and turned them off. He put them all in a stalk next to him before turning back to her. In a strangely business-like gesture, he motioned for her to take a seat. It almost made her feel like she was a child again at school. But she did as commanded and sat a few chairs away from him.

When she didn't say anything, his impatience got the better of him. "Well?"

"Right," Padmé breathed. She could do this. She _had _to do this. "Look," she began again, looking straight into his mask, right where his eyes should be. "I'm tired, lonely, and, quite frankly, I think I'm going insane." Vader didn't respond. "I need more human interaction."

The senator expected some sort of sneering remark from the Sith, but instead, he remained silent. It was irritating just as it was unnerving. She decided to carry on. "Please, I want to be able to talk to my friends at lunch without having a Storm Trooper or you breathing down my neck."

"No."

Right. He'd been gone only a week, but she should have remembered his love of crushing her hopes with only one word. "Lord Vader," she began again, "I'm seriously afraid I'm going to have a mental break down if I don't get some normal interaction with people that I care about. I-I'm so tired of having to watch what I say all the time for fear that it'll be taken the wrong way. I'm tired of only talking about business. What little conversation I have with anyone else only lasts a few minutes or is with Imperial Officers, Storm Troopers, or you. Keeping me locked away like this is _not _healthy. I want to be able to talk to my family, to see my friends!"

Padmé had gone over all of this before speaking to the Sith in hopes that he would not suspect her for having any other motives. It wasn't until then when there were tears stinging her eyes that she realized that a great portion of her reasons for even attempting her newest plan was mostly because she really _did _miss everyone. She was so lonely she _hurt_. Even Vader, as mechanical as he was, should be able to see that, to hear the truth in her voice.

The Sith, however, appeared to be unmoved by her display. "No."

"An hour a day," she pleaded on. "That's all. Just one hour. Maybe at lunch. Just one hour where I'm not being suffocated by security. _Please_!"

"No. Now get out."

"How can you be this way?" she cried, now unable to stop herself. She'd bottled it up for so long, now she was cracking. She couldn't help the tears that ran down her cheeks, she was just so angry. Angry at him and at herself, for what she was going to do. "I've been held captive for nearly three months. _Months_ and I haven't done anything wrong! I've played the Emperor's little game, but I'm sick and tired of it! I need to see other people! This isn't healthy!"

Vader remained still. If he was uncomfortable with the scene she was making, she didn't care. It felt good to be able to yell at him like this. She'd been silent over this too long.

"I have no one now! I can't speak to my friends or family, and those friends I can, you've scared too much that they will hardly look at me! You've sent away my handmaiden, and I have only my droid now. Please, if you've _ever _had a heart, listen to me!"

"You pleas are wasted on me, Senator," Vader snapped, sounding especially harsh. But something in Padmé told her to keep pressing. Despite the anger she heard, she knew she had to keep trying.

"Please," she ignored his words. "I-I know what I said the other day, but you leave me no choice. I've never done this…" Kriff, was she really going to do this? "I don't want something for nothing," she explained carefully, angrily wiping her tears away.

The Sith stiffened. "You're _bribing _me?"

"No," Padmé became still, emotionless. "A trade."

Now Vader seemed interested. She didn't know how she knew considering that he still had the mask and he didn't look any different, but he felt different. The air was still dark and angry, but she thought she could catch a hint of curiosity. That was good. As long as he was curious he would dismiss her or hurt her. Maybe that's another thing they had in common: they both were too curious for their own good.

"And what do you possibly have to trade?" he asked. "I already own all that which I want. And money is but an object to me, one which I have excess of."

"Something that you can't buy." She was really doing this. "Something you don't have, and can never have unless you take me up on this offer right now."

For the first time since knowing him, Padmé watched as the Sith sat forward in his seat, lacing his hands together in front of him on the table. It was an oddly business-like posture, one that didn't look completely normal coming from him. She could hardly believe it. She, Padmé Naberrie Amidala, had Lord Darth Vader, Heir to the Empire, on the edge of his seat. If this wasn't such a grim occasion and she wasn't going to ruin herself, she might have found this amusing. As it was, she could only take notice and file it away for later.

"You are finally going to tell me what you know of the Rebel Alliance?" he asked deathly serious.

"No," she shook her head, several strands of hair falling into her face. "I don't know anything about them," _anymore, _she added silently to herself. That was true. The rebels changed codes frequently, and the moment word got out that she was being monitored they had probably changed bases by now. So what she said was completely true…from a certain point of view. Vader wouldn't be able to accuse her of lying.

Sadly, however, the air between them changed, and the Sith was becoming more impatient and frustrated. The rather mild mood for the Dark Lord that had been before was evaporating faster than water on Mustafar. She had to act quickly or risk losing him completely. "Then you have nothing I want, Senator," he replied shortly, sitting up straight again.

"I have one thing!" Padmé argued. "I know what I said the other day, and I've _never _done this before," she was rambling, but she couldn't stop, "but I'm desperate and it's all I have." Vader waited for her to continue as she tried to pick up her courage. "I'll let you…sleep with me."

Silence. The entire room became eerily still. Even Vader's breathing seemed to become too quiet. The air around the Sith was always cold, but suddenly it was freezing, and it froze Padmé in her place. Her heart stopped for one eternal second. They stared at one another.

"Get out," he hissed.

Padmé gasped as the air seemed to shatter at his command, but knew she had to continue. "An hour a day is all I want, for a night. Or…or an hour for whenever you want me."

"Get. Out!"

"No one will have to know! I-I live here with you. You only have droids, no one will suspect a thing!"

The senator flinched when Vader shot to his feet. He was radiating rage, and she began to fear that she'd finally gone too far. He was going to kill her. She remembered his reaction with Cotrilla all too clearly, why had she thought he would be kinder to her? She should have known he'd be too insulted and enraged when any of this was suggested for him. But she had tried. Maybe R2 would be able to get the information to the Alliance somehow.

As she tensed, waiting for her death, she watched instead as Vader stormed out of the room, not sparing her a single glance. He left her gasping from the adrenaline rush. The moment he was gone, she felt suddenly empty and ashamed. More ashamed than she ever had in her life. She immediately burst into tears. Tears of relief, humiliation, and anger.

She ran back into her bedroom and fell into bed. She cried herself into a fitful sleep.

**oOoOoOo**

Padmé was startled awake when her door opened. At the sound of the door, followed by the hissing of a respirator, alerted her to the arrival of her guest. Darth Vader had returned for her. But for what purpose, she didn't know.

Jumping to her feet, the senator felt a slight rush to her head. She didn't want to be caught lying down with the Sith in the room. She glanced over at the clock. It was one in the morning. What was he going to do to her? Was he here to kill her for the ultimate insolence?

Vader filled the doorway, the light from the hall flooding in behind him. They stood facing each other, Padmé's heart racing, as she waited for his judgment. What would he do to her?

"I will agree with your conditions, Senator, on three conditions," he said at last. Padmé's eyes widened and she stopped breathing. She had to force herself to nod. This wasn't happening.

"One: You will have one hour a day to communicate with whomever you choose free of interference whenever you give me an hour every evening. Two: You will tell _no one _about this, or I _will _kill you. Three." He hesitated, as though he was also unable to believe he was agreeing to this. "You must always wear a blindfold when we…engage in each other's company. Are we clear?"

Padmé was shaking, and there were tears in her eyes again, but she nodded. She should be happy that her plan had worked, that she would soon be able to help her friends. But the moment was very bitter. She wondered if she would be able to stand the utter disgrace.

Hesitantly, Vader came into the room, the door sliding closed behind him. It all went dark, and only the sound of his respirator filled the air. She wouldn't have been able to see him had it not been for the lights on his chest. But she remained perfectly still, letting him come to her. She had to stop herself from becoming sick.

The moment she felt the cloth over her eyes, she gasped and had to bite her lip to keep from crying. Vader tied the blindfold on tightly, but not so tightly that it hurt. She supposed she should be grateful for that. As she waited in dread, she heard a strange sound, but she didn't feel him touch her. It almost sounded like a vacuum being opened. When the sound of the respirator was no longer in the air, she realized what it was. He'd taken off his helmet. Lord Vader could take off his helmet.

Gloved hands grabbed her around the waist, and Padmé couldn't help the small sob that escaped her. The hands stalled for a moment before picking her completely up off her feet and setting her down on her knees on the bed. She trembled as she heard more noises coming from him, these sounding like he was undoing a belt. She was made to wait and fear for several minutes before the hands returned, this time, lifting up her nightgown. This couldn't be real. What had she done?

He literally ripped her panties off, and she felt his gloved hands on her hips. She closed her eyes, bowing her head as humiliation filled her. She couldn't even blame him this time. This had all been her offer. It wasn't rape if she was willing. But then, just how willing was she?

It was strange to hear him breathe and it not coming out as a hiss. It wasn't really all that loud, it just sounded like any man that had exerted himself too much. Or was growing more aroused. Another shiver of dread filled her.

Suddenly, she felt it. She was biting her lip so hard she was sure it was bleeding, even as the tears streamed from her eyes, but she didn't dare make another sound. She could feel it pressing against her maidenhood. This was it. He was going to take it all from her. She was about to become something she'd always despised.

A cry of pain erupted from Padmé before she could stop it. She hadn't been prepared for the sudden entry. She gasped and panted, even as more tears streamed from her eyes. She felt him. He had broken her. But he wasn't all the way inside, she realized with horror. He'd paused.

After she caught her breath, she felt him begin to rock, pushing further and further inside each time. It wasn't fast, and it hurt. It was almost as though he were being cautious. This was almost worse, and she wished he would just get it over with. She wanted this to just be done with.

As if sensing her thoughts, Vader pushed himself all the way in. Padmé let out another cry. It was so strange to have something inside of her like this. It hurt. He was too big. She wasn't used to this, and either Vader wasn't either or he was being considerate of her feelings. Neither seemed plausible.

But after another moment's pause, he seemed to have grown too impatient. He began rocking again, and the more he rocked, the more Padmé found herself feeling confused and lost. Her body began rocking in time with his, his hands on her hips making it so. Her ass hit up against his hips in time, and she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck and shoulders.

The longer this went on, the rougher Vader got with her. One hand remained on her hip, slamming her back into him anxiously, the other sneaked to her neck, ever so gently grabbing it, stroking it, as though he were going to actually strangle her, but didn't. His breathing became more and more labored, and Padmé found herself feeling more confused as time went on. Something was happening to her, her stomach was tensing, and she wasn't quite she what it meant. She couldn't think properly.

Harder and harder Vader drove into her, and the more he did, the more Padmé found herself responding to him. Once a moan escaped her lips, she couldn't stop herself. And when the first moan she'd let slip came out, the more voracious Vader became. It spurred him on, apparently giving him encouragement. Faster and faster until they were both frantic. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled Padmé with shame, but she found she couldn't stop herself from doing it. She didn't _want _to stop. Something had built up inside her and she needed release. Force she _needed_ it.

"Please!" she cried out at last, unable to contain herself. She wasn't even sure what she meant by it.

At last, everything exploded into white bliss and she cried out. A wave of the purest pleasure washed over her, and a moment later she felt Vader spasm behind her, groaning as he released. They were both left gasping, Padmé felt her legs shaking and was being held up by Vader. But when she felt him pull away, reality came crashing back down all around her, even as he let her fall into the bed.

What had she done?

There were sounds coming from his general direction, like he was adjusting his belt, but she didn't respond. She lay perfectly still, until she heard the door open and close again. She waited a moment, before pulling off her blindfold. He was gone. He'd gotten what he'd come for. She was alone now.

Padmé fell back into her bed, bawling, overwhelmed with a range of raging emotions. She felt so dirty, so used, so ashamed. What had she done? What in the name of the Force had she done?

She cried until she had nothing left, but she didn't fall asleep that night.

* * *

**Author's Note: **It will be more adult themed from now on, as stated at the beginning and in the summary. You've been warned.

Reviews please?


	11. Chapter 11: Morning After

**Chapter Eleven: Morning After**

The Force was an ever changing constant in the universe. It swirled and shifted. It gave beings the ability to manipulate object, people, and even see into the future, the past, and situations in the present that were occurring light years away. Yet reading time was difficult. The future was never set in stone. The Force was constant, but situations shifted. Those with the ability to tap into possible futures always had to be wary. No prediction was assured.

And that's why Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting up in the early hours of the morning, thinking. He'd woken up from a strange vision, not knowing what it meant. Had it been just a dream or had he really foreseen something? Never once in all of his years studying as a Jedi, nor even after he'd been knighted, had he ever shown aptitude for such a thing. His talents had laid elsewhere. Normally such dreams would have been just that, dreams. Except when he'd woken this morning, he _felt _something.

The presence in the Force had shifted somehow, causing Obi-Wan to pause. His dream had been unclear, and he couldn't remember what it had been about exactly, just feelings really. In his dream—or vision?—the Dark Side of the Force that had settled over everything had suddenly just…froze. It stalled as though for one pure moment, there had been nothing. It had been so brief, even in the dream that it was almost as though it hadn't happened at all. Except now that Obi-Wan was awake, he felt a change. Not a very big one, he might have missed it had he not been looking for it, but it was there.

Something was happening out in the universe, and it gave him the hope that the balance would soon be tipped back on the side of Light. Perhaps it was time to contact his master.

**oOoOoOo**

The next morning found Lord Vader in his room, pacing like a caged nexu, his mind in absolute turmoil. What had he _done_? How could he have let her do this to him? He'd finally recovered from what she'd done to him a week ago, but now _this_?

How in the galaxy had she come to such a drastic decision anyway? And why had he gone with it? Had she really been influenced that much by that other senator? He'd thought that Amidala hated Cotrilla. She'd railed against him, screaming at him that she wasn't like the other woman. She'd yelled at him for insinuating that she would take or make bribes. But now here she was, doing _exactly _what she had said she didn't do. What was _wrong _with her?

She was desperate. He knew that. She reeked of it. The moment she'd entered the room last night he could tell something was wrong. In fact, the moment he'd landed on Coruscant he could tell that she was upset about something. Her presence still very greatly affected him. But this? It was insane! How could he have let it go so far? How could he have let himself _do this_?

A part of Vader was so angry he wished he could go into her room and kill her. How _dare _she try to bribe him! She was no better than the filth she worked with. The only difference was that she had waited later in her career to begin making deals of this sort. How dare she think he was so cheap!

But then he'd taken the bribe anyway, even as every fiber of his being had told him not to. He'd never had any sort of sexual encounters before. His master had greatly discouraged it, in fact. As a younger man, he'd been so focused on gaining power that he hadn't even thought about anything remotely similar to sex. It just hadn't seemed worth it. What good was a second of happiness to a lifetime of power? Wasn't power more fulfilling? Hadn't he just reaffirmed to himself on Despayre that power was all he needed? That anything else was a waste of time? He didn't _need _a family or anyone close to him. Having someone close to him meant that he risked losing them. He didn't want to ever experience that again.

His master had given into the weakness of the flesh before, though. It was no secret that there were concubines at the Imperial Palace. But then, his master usually killed the women he took. It assured that he wouldn't become too attached. Vader could have done that. If he'd actually been thinking, he could have fulfilled his curiosity and gotten a woman, slept with her, and then killed her when he was finished. It would have been easy. He'd killed before, and it would surely have helped him solidify his position in the Dark Side again.

But he hadn't done that. Instead he'd taken the senator's deal without much thought as he'd been too confused, anxious, and fascinated at the thought of sex. He'd given into the temptation, and he could not kill her. A part of him knew that he wouldn't have killed her even if he could. Somehow she'd known that he'd wanted her, even when he himself hadn't known, it was the only way to explain this! In all honestly, he wasn't interested in women. He wasn't interested in relationships of any kind. What he _was _interested in, which was the root of all of his problems, was Senator Amidala. She intriguedhim. There was something about her. He'd never been so interested in anyone in his life, and yet somehow she'd come in out of nowhere and bewitched him. For all the wrong reasons.

Now he had taken her. She'd offered herself up to him and he'd given into the enticement. He would only be fooling himself if he denied he wanted her. She was the only creature he'd ever felt…_stirred _by like this. Was it lust? He'd never felt it for another being before. Or at least not this intensely. He'd always recognized beauty in females, but he'd never felt moved by it. Until now. He had taken her and she was his now. She'd offered herself up to him.

Could he keep doing this? The thought of passing up this oportunity and never engaging in sex again left an ache in his chest. Somehow the senator had awoken something deep inside of him. It was raw and primitive, and he would kill to do it again. The sensations he'd experienced last night…he couldn't rightly explain them. It had all felt so _wonderful_. At first it had been as though he'd been burning alive, drowning in fire. It had been almost painful, these feelings, but he'd wanted more. So much more. And the way she'd moved, the moans that escaped her throat…he'd never felt more possessive in his life when he'd first heard her. He'd wanted to make her sound like that again and again. And then she had _begged _him…

Kriffing Sith hells, Vader wasn't sure he'd ever heard anything so breathtaking in his entire life. She'd _begged _ him. He still wasn't sure what she had really wanted, but he didn't care that much. All that he knew was that she wanted, he'd given, and he had never heard anything so beautiful in his life. He'd heard thousands of beings plead to him before, but none ever the way she had. He had felt her pain, but also her longing. She'd wanted release, just has he had, and for the first time since he took his proper Sith name, he'd given someone what they'd wanted. It had felt _wonderful_.

But he couldn't keep doing this! It was _wrong_. What if his master found out? What if the senator told someone? She said she wouldn't and he'd threatened her, but still. Was that enough? Would someone find out? It was impossible that someone would find out. He secured his wing so that not even one of the Emperor's spies could get in or look through the windows. It was completely secure …But would it be enough?

Was it really worth it? To feel good for such a short time only to have everything else he'd worked so hard to achieve fall apart? He couldn't lose his power, his position. It was all he had left. He could potentially lose it if he gave into the pleasures of the flesh. Isn't that what his master taught him? Isn't that what he'd read in his training? To form such attachments was useless and harmful. Even the Jedi had known that…

Maybe he could do this. All he had to do was just not form an attachment to the senator. Normally, he'd think it would not be any trouble at all, except in this case, there _was _some sort of attachment. Ever since he'd met her there had been something about her. Something that drew him to her. He'd fought against it, railed, but he couldn't stop the magnetic pull. The Force had always been telling him something about her, and now, it was whispering for him to let go. To give in.

Vader had always allowed himself to be led by the Force, and it was leading him to Senator Amidala. Maybe there was a reason for this. Maybe he could do this.

But he couldn't dwell on this forever. He had work to do now. The senator had to get to work. A great sense of dread filled him at the thought of seeing her again. What would it be like? She had cried when he'd entered her room last night, and during most of their…encounter. He knew she'd cried after he'd gone. Did she regret this deal? Had he simply taken advantage of her desperation?

Why should he care? He was a Darth Lord of the Sith. He didn't care about anyone but himself. His goals were all that mattered. And besides, she had been the one to make this deal, not him. If she hadn't wanted to do this, she shouldn't have posed the offer into the first place.

Making sure his helmet and mask were secure, Vader strode out of his room. When he pressed the com on her door, it opened immediately. He was shocked. Senator Amidala stood ready, face absolutely pale, but her expression was blank. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes…Normally they were so bright, full of life and determination, but now they were dull and red. She hadn't slept well if at all. She looked sick, but he knew she wasn't.

He motioned towards the lift, unable to find a thing to say. She didn't even nod, just started walking. They were silent on their way down, and it was hard to stand next to her in the lift without moving. She was so close. But she didn't move at all. She was stone next to him. He forced himself to remain still. Once out of the lift, his P.A. and the Storm Trooper were there waiting, but neither he nor the senator acknowledged them. It unnerved Vader that she didn't even nod to either of the other men. She was usually friends towards them.

They walked on, both wearing their masks so that no one could see. The trooper followed faithfully, but his P.A. must have gotten the sense that he wasn't wanted. It was good. Vader wasn't sure he could listen to anything at the moment. Apparently everyone else picked up on his projection that he didn't want them near as well.

In the speeder, the three boarded. As always, the trooper went to the back, apparently aware that Vader could handle himself while the senator sat in the passenger seat. The drive was dead quiet save for his breathing. The senator didn't even look out the window, just stared straight ahead. When he focused on her emotions, he got a raging swirl of anger, disgust, shame, and sadness. She was regretting this as much as he was, if not more. But she was carrying on. It was admirable, in its own way. Maybe the senator had finally come to live in the real world at last, where not everything was a lush green paradise and big family picnics.

Good. Maybe she would realize just what she'd gotten herself into now. Maybe she would finally stop with all of her mischief in the senate. Though, strangely, there was something regrettable about the thought. He wasn't sure why.

Once landed and in the senate, Vader escorted Amidala to her office. She still had not made a sound. The trooper stopped just outside of the suite doors, but Vader walked her to her office. He stood in the doorway, watching as she took her seat, her face still set in stone, and immediately start working. He watched her for a moment, wondering if she was all right to be here. Maybe she should have stayed back at the base? But no, this is what she wanted. She wanted to talk to her friends and her body had been the price.

After another minute or so of watching, he turned and shut the door. The moment he did, the tiny presence of the senator that was in his mind snapped followed by a wave of sorrow. She was crying again, but that couldn't be helped. She'd made her bed, let her lie in it.

**oOoOoOo**

By the time lunch came around, Padmé felt terrible. There were times she wasn't sure she could even leave her office, but this was the moment she'd been waiting for. She'd tried to work all day, but her mind kept returning to what had happened the night before. Tears would immediately burn her eyes, but she worked hard not to start sobbing. It wouldn't look good and people would start asking questions. She couldn't have that.

Though, it was hard not to remember. It had been…she wasn't even sure there was a word for it. He'd taken her without preamble, without warning. So many stories told of how wonderful sex was, of the pleasures it could afford when with your one true love or simply the right lover. They always depicted it as a fun, happy experience where the men and women first warmed up to each other; kissed, laughed, touched. There had certainly been none of that last night, not that she'd wanted any. Vader hadn't wasted time. He'd entered her, got his pleasure, and left. That was it. She'd never thought that sex could be so…cold. Impersonal.

But then, what had she expected from a Sith Lord? Foreplay? Vader had taken the deal based on the simple need to relieve himself and to experience pleasure. He could do that without hugging and kissing. She should have realized that in reality sex was nothing special, that it was just a crude bodily act in order to procreate.

Right?

While the majority of her first experience had been less than ideal, there had been…something. Honestly it hadn't all been pain or necessarily unpleasant. Towards the end especially, it had been…it had been _incredible_. It was like a bomb of pure ecstasy had exploded in her brain, causing her entire body to hum with pleasure. She would have never guessed that it would feel like that.

But that didn't make up for the fact of what she had done. What had happened…it was shameful and wrong. What she'd done had tainted her forever. But it had been necessary. She'd done what she had to for the greater good of the galaxy. By doing this, it was just her life that would have to suffer and not anyone else's. That was how she wanted it. This would hopefully be the end. If this information she'd discovered was as important as she'd thought, then her body was an acceptable loss.

Right?

When she shivered, she knew that Vader was near. She could feel his presence. It was time for him to keep his end of the bargain. She just hoped he wouldn't alter the deal in any way. She didn't think that she could handle it if he went back on his word. What was fragilely keeping her together at this point would shatter.

When the door opened, she schooled her features so that he wouldn't be able to tell that anything was wrong. It was useless to fool him, though, and he'd probably been able to read her mind or sense her or whatever he did. He probably knew for a fact that she was far from all right. But that didn't mean she would _show _it to him. She would _never _let him see her so vulnerable as she had been last night again. No more tears.

Lord Vader stood in her door way, looking the exact same as he always did. His breathing filled the room and her heart with dread. Just looking at him again caused her to remember what they had done. She could still feel the sore throbbing between her legs, and felt her face heat up. She still hurt. She even had bruises on her hip from where one of his hands had been nearly crushing it, though she hadn't felt it at the time. This thing had taken her, but in the end, he was the one that would lose. She would see to that.

Standing up as gracefully as she could, not looking into the masked face, Padmé carefully walked past him, making sure she didn't touch him. She didn't ever want to touch him more than she had to again. It would just be too much. And so it was a silent affair as they made their way to the cafeteria, Cory in tow.

Once they were nearly outside, Vader turned to her and spoke for the first time that day. "You may speak to your friends," he said evenly. "You have one hour. Trooper CT-585 will be watching from a distance. I will remain out here."

It was actually surprising that he was giving her the full hour. Last evening he'd told her an hour to speak with her friends for an hour of her time. While that horrid experience had lasted long enough, Padmé knew it hadn't been close to an hour. He was actually giving her the better end of the bargain if one ignored the emotional and psychological damage done. Was he up to something?

Instead of answering, Padmé nodded and entered the room. Cory walked with her through the line, getting a meal for himself, before he nodded towards her and went to sit by himself at the table they used to always sit at together, leaving her free. Scanning the room, she saw Bail and Mon sitting calmly and she made a beeline for them.

Carefully, she sat down opposite Mon and beside Bail, not quite able to meet their eyes. Their shock was apparent, however, as their eyes grew large. "Padmé!" Bail turned towards her, reaching out for her, as if to hug, but stopping himself short. "By the Force, what happened to you?"

There was so much concern in those dark eyes, and Padmé could hardly stand it. He appeared so worried, Mon too, but she couldn't help but wonder how they would react had they known what she'd done last night. She remained impassive, however, and would not let it get the better of her. She had work to do now.

"I only want to risk a few minutes as not to cause suspicion, so please, listen closely and try to memorize everything I'm about to tell you," she didn't waste time. "I have information that I believe is vital to our cause."

The other two senators paused, sharing a glance, before turning back to her. "_Our _cause?" Mon raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Padmé nodded, suddenly getting a bad feeling. "I know I'm risking a lot, but you _have _to listen to me."

Bail frowned with worry. "Padmé, what happened to you? You've been with Vader and Imperials and…well…"

"How do we know what you're going to tell us isn't an Imperial trick?" Mon finished, staring neutrally at the other woman.

Padmé was floored. She'd spent so much time obsessing over this information for the past week, agonizing over her decision to bribe or not to bribe Vader, given in, _slept _with the creature, endured eleven hours of torturing herself with regret and disgust, and now her friends didn't even trust her? She hadn't even stopped to consider what they might think about the last several months. She'd been so intent on giving this information that now she almost became sick when she was being denied, even if their suspicion was understandable.

"You think I'm a traitor?" she whispered, sounding much more broken than she would have liked.

For a moment it appeared as though Bail were going to deny it, but one stern look from Mon caused him to pause. "It doesn't exactly look good when you're not only staying with Lord Vader, but eating lunch and smiling with Storm Troopers," the other woman explained bluntly, folder her hands on the table. "It's been months and only _now _do you come to us?"

"I couldn't come before," Padmé argued. "I've been monitored strictly by Vader."

"And now?"

Padmé hesitated. "We've made a deal," she began cautiously. "I haven't stepped out of line since being induced into his care, so he's given me the freedom to have an hour to myself at lunch."

If they didn't believe her, she didn't really care at the moment and they didn't show it. She just hoped they didn't figure out the real bargain that had been struck. She wouldn't be able to handle the humiliation.

"Can you trust him?" Bail asked, his hands working nervously under the table.

"He hasn't planted any bugs on me, if that's what you mean," the younger senator almost snorted. "And he's at the doorway of the cafeteria. To maintain his trust and to ensure that I don't give him a reason to start spying, I only want to stay a few minutes," she stressed again. "Please, listen to me. Hear me out. I'm not trying to harm you or anyone else. Just listen. Use this information I'm about to tell you and investigate. Please!"

Mon appeared distrustful, but Bail was already nodded. "Very well," the other woman sighed. "What do you have?"

"First, don't react with any great emotions," Padmé began. "Vader and the trooper could still be watching, though they can't hear what we're saying. And don't make any moves to write anything down. Try to remember it. In the future, if I learn more, I will have Jar Jar deliver it to you."

"The Gungan?" Mon frowned. "Can he be trusted?"

"Yes," the younger woman said firmly. "I trust him with my life. In the future, I will be able to talk to him more freely and he can pass this information on next time."

"Then why didn't you do it this time?" Bail asked.

"Because I told Vader I wanted to reassure you that I was okay. And I needed to convince you, apparently, that I was still on your side," she responded drily. "Now, please listen closely…"

Quietly Padmé began listing all the planets and trigger words that she could remember, as well other little tidbits R2 had learned over the last week while Vader was gone. She contemplated on telling them the few things she'd learned about Vader himself, but then decided against it. How could they use that information? And even so they might start asking questions about how she knew he could take off his helmet for at least a short time, or how she knew for sure there was at least some very organic parts contained in the suit. She couldn't risk them finding out her shame. Not yet. It wasn't worth it.

So in the end, she decided to tell them about the one, big thing that still needed to be told. "Do you remember hearing something about the Empire constructing an ore extractor?" she asked.

Bail shook his head in the negative, but Mon was nodding. "What about it?" she asked quietly.

Padmé leaned forward slightly while trying not to look as though she were. It had already been ten minutes, she wanted to leave before Vader got too suspicious. Lowering her voice, she said, "I have reason to believe it's really a battle station."

The other two were silent a moment, before Bail asked, "How do you know?"

"And what proof do you have?" Mon asked.

"What kind of battle station? What does it do exactly?"

"I don't know," Padmé admitted. "But its code is the Imperial Planetary Ore Extractor. My droid was only able to obtain its name, the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station. That's all I have, though I'll try to look for more on it."

The other two senators were silent for a long moment. "We'll look into it as well," Bail state firmly.

"After we check into all of this other information first," Mon added. "I want to believe you, Padmé, I do, but—"

"It's all right. I understand," she nodded. "I should probably go. I'll chat again, but I should probably stay away."

She was about ready to stand, when Bail caught her arm. His dark eyes were so full of anxiety that it nearly made her weep. "He tortured you, didn't he?" he asked softly.

A million thoughts ran through her mind at that moment. Should she lie to them? Again? She didn't want them to know the truth, but at the same time, could she lead them astray in their thinking like this? They were her friends, even if they were doubting her for the time being. She didn't like the thought of being a liar on top of everything else. But more annoyingly, she was finding it hard to accuse Vader of such a thing. At least when it came to her. He hadn't tortured her, at least not in the conventional sense. He'd only done what she had said he could. Nothing more. If she looked terrible, it was her own fault.

Looking away, Padmé decided that she didn't need to respond to that. How could she? Instead, she stood up. "I need to go," she said quietly. "Take care. Remember. I will have Jar Jar come speak with you in a few days."

With that, she got up and went towards her now customary table, where Cory was still sitting, eating his lunch. She felt Vader's eyes on her, and it made her skin crawl. But she tried her best to ignore him, and instead sat opposite of the trooper. Cory looked up at her with a bit of surprise on his face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you were with your friends?"

"I was," she nodded. "I just wanted to make sure they knew I was all right."

The trooper frowned. "But why sit with me and not them? I thought Lord Vader said you had an hour to yourself?"

"I do," she nodded simply. "But you're my friend too." Cory looked shocked. "And a good friend doesn't let their friend sit all by themselves at lunch when they can keep them company."

Cory appeared very confused and stumbled out a, "But I'm just a clone," as if that was the excuse that could answer everything.

Padmé shrugged. "Not really," she said. "You're my friend. That makes you different."

A pause stretched out between them for a moment before the trooper's lips slowly pulled back and he smiled warmly at the senator. She'd never seen him look so pleased, not even when she'd given him his name. "That's the best thing anyone's ever said to me," he admitted. "You really aren't like other beings, Senator."

For just a moment, it seemed as though nothing had changed. She was still talking to a friendly Storm Trooper and she was sitting in the cafeteria to avoid being locked in her office with no Dark Lord in sight. For just a moment, she almost smiled. Once again, she realized that despite her world seeming to have spun off its axis, the rest of the galaxy kept turning. Even though one element had changed, nothing else had. She really was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Although she didn't feel like smiling, she was exhausted, sore, and ashamed, she gave Cory a small smile. He didn't know what happened, and he needed to know she wasn't upset with him. "That, I am not," her small smile slowly became genuine. "Not at all."

The trooper nodded happily before shoveling in more food into his mouth. They talked for about fifteen minutes, Padmé trying to eat something, though she certainly didn't have the appetite. Eventually, Cory realized she wasn't much in the mood for talking and suggested go back to her office. She still had time to herself, so maybe she could find Jar Jar and talk to him. There were plans that still had to be set into place. Vader might not have used all of his time last night, but Padmé'd be damned if she didn't milk every last nanosecond she had.

So when they stepped out of the cafeteria, once more just the senator and trooper and not friends, Vader was there, like a cold shadow, following them. He escorted her back and entered her officer suite with her while Cory remained posted just outside. Thankfully, Vader paused when she walked over to the Gungan, who appeared uncomfortable with having the Dark Lord so close.

Padmé turned towards the Sith and gave him an icy look, while raising an eyebrow, hoping he got the message. She didn't want to talk to him. Again, Vader hesitated. Did he want to talk to her? It was a horrifying thought, but he remained silent. Instead, suddenly, he turned around and stormed out, leaving the senator to feel oddly shaky.

"Are you'sa okiee-day?" Jar Jar asked in concern, standing up and helping her to sit in his seat. Ever the gentleman.

"No, not really," she admitted. "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask something of you, my friend. Something potentially dangerous."

The Gungan swallowed hard, but even though Padmé knew he was scared, he nodded. "You'sa can count on me'sa, Senator."

Yes, her life might have been shattered last night and the world was still turning, but Padmé had to smile at realizing that she had good friends that would stay with her and help her pick up the pieces.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Obi-Wan has finally made it in! Yay! And personally, I like Storm Troopers with a bit of character. They're cute.

But thanks again to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! To all of my anonymous people, I wish I could respond to your kind words, but sadly, I can't. So just know that your reviews make me smile. But any chance I can get some more? I'd be most beholdin' to ya!


	12. Chapter 12: The New Norm

**Chapter Twelve: The New Norm**

Padmé was not sure she had ever felt so relieved that it was the weekend in all her life. She had endured being taken by Vader only twice, the second time not much different than the first, but she already needed a break. Not for the first time she wondered how she'd let herself do this.

But her plans were working thus far. It was troubling to have Mon and Bail doubt her, but at least she'd given them the information she could, and if she knew Bail, the man would probably look into it despite his worries that it was all a trap. He was a good man, and Mon was just being protective. She could understand that. And then Jar Jar had decided to help her, and things couldn't have been going better under the circumstances.

Lying back in bed, Padmé stared at the clock and realized it was after ten in the morning. She didn't really care, though. It's not like she had anything better to do than sleep. And anyway, sleep had been very hard to come by the last few nights since making this deal with Vader. The first night had been terrible and so too the following day. After she'd gotten home that night, she'd literally fallen into bed, dinner forgotten, and slept like a rock. That is, until Vader came again at one in the morning.

She shuddered at the memory of him once more walking in, forcing her on her knees on the bed, and then tying the blindfold over her eyes. She hadn't cried during it this time, but oh how she'd wanted to. Again, after he was finished, he just left, leaving her to feel disgusting and wretched. She'd had to sit in the shower again, as she had the first night, trying to get the scent off of her skin. And as before, while the smell had gone, the feeling of filth had stayed. Somehow, however, she'd managed to fall back asleep that second night and get at least another few hours.

But last night, last night he had not come. It had been a Friday, meaning she didn't have to go to work the next day, which meant that neither of them had to honor their deal. At least for two nights. It had been hard to sleep, though, and she'd stayed up until one, fearing he would come again. He hadn't, and so she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep and only now woke up. She usually didn't sleep so late, but then, she normally didn't stay up so late either.

Pushing hair out of her face, Padmé stared at the ceiling, wondering how her life had gone so wrong. One moment she'd been happy with a loving family, the next with a satisfying career, and then suddenly everything she believed in was under attack and she was sleeping with a Sith Lord. Funny how life worked. Funnier still was the will of the Force.

Even though she tried not to, it was hard not to think about Vader. About what they'd done together. Contrary to popular belief, Padmé found nothing beautiful about sex. From her two experiences, it was impersonal and selfish. But then, this is what she wanted, wasn't it? She'd been hoping Vader would be selfish enough to seek gratification from her, and then she'd done it strictly for business reasons. Attachments—as unbelievable as they were to occur— would only complicate matters. She couldn't afford to get sentimental over Vader. Force, she'd already tried to see things from his point of view, she didn't need to go any deeper into this. She couldn't, at least not if she wanted to remain sane.

Automatically, her hand went to her hip, lightly pressing the bruises that Vader had left there. The second night he'd taken her, his hands had eventually ended up in the same pose as the night before. One hand pressing into her hips, bruising, the other lightly holding her neck, both pulling her closer to him. It actually amazed her that he hadn't choked her, but there were no marks left on her throat. It was strange that he has such a fascination with necks, apparently.

When she closed her eyes, she could still feel him, his touch, his breath on her bare skin, his rhythm. As ashamed as she was, Padmé again had to admit that being with Vader wasn't _all _bad. Or at least it could have been a lot worse. He could have been one of those perverts that liked to tie women up or hit them. Instead, he'd asked merely to have her blindfold, probably only for the reason of keeping her from seeing his face, and held her hips too tightly. The more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed that he probably hadn't even noticed he'd hurt her at all. He'd seemed very cautious about his touches, and his reactions to things felt instinctive. Primitive. He'd taken care not to choke her as he stroked her neck, he probably hadn't even thought about her hips.

And then there was the fact that he could make her body hum for hours when he was finished with her. Even as she felt horrid, she couldn't deny how strangely loose and good her body felt afterwards, even as her mind quickly became distraught over what happened. Padmé had heard accounts from women that reported that they were very rarely satisfied with their lovers. Some females didn't even experience orgasms. They lived their lives in order to please their mates. As wrong as it sounded, that was not the case with Vader. Although it was most assuredly unconscious, he was an efficient enough lover to send her over the edge. When Vader had sex, he not only satisfied himself, but his lover as well.

The thought caused Padmé face to burn with humiliation and she pulled a pillow over her face. Was it really so wrong to admit that sex was actually not all that terrible with Vader? She felt like she was betraying not only herself, but her family, her culture, and even the Rebel Alliance for admitting it. But it was true. Sure, it was a far cry from being perfect, but it was not bad in the basic sense. While it lacked the feelings and emotions of normal sexual experiences, it greatly succeeded in the ultimate goal: It felt good to both parties. She just hoped Vader wouldn't realize that and become too smug about it. He already had a great power over her, she couldn't stand the thought of him lording it over her so completely.

But he wasn't like that. Even though she knew so little about him, somehow the senator knew that Vader wouldn't gloat to her about this, at least not when there was anyone else around. Thus far he seemed hesitant at best. He's stormed out of the room when she'd first proposed this idea, after all. He'd been clearly insulted. So what had changed? Why had he suddenly become so amiable to the idea? Surely it couldn't have been simple curiosity. Surely he'd had sex before? Maybe it was just loneliness? Maybe after all his time being alone, maybe he'd just wanted some sort of encounter with another being.

The thought of Darth Vader just being a lonely, sad being left a bad taste in Padmé's mouth. Why did she always do this? Why did she try and rationalize things? Why did she try to understand beings that just weren't meant to be understood? This insatiable curiosity had to have come from somewhere, but she wasn't sure which side of the family to blame it on. It had to stop, however, lest she become too entangled in all of this mess.

Sitting up, she looked to where R2 usually sat the corner of the room when he powered down. The last few nights she'd managed to convince him to shut down so he wouldn't have to see her shame, but she had a feeling he knew what had happened. She was just lucky he hadn't tried electrocuting her or something for being so stupid. There was just something about R2 knowing, however, that made her extremely sad. She didn't want him to judge her, even though she wasn't sure he was capable of it. But at the moment he wasn't here. He was probably doing whatever it was he did when she wasn't around. She was alone and she didn't like it.

Standing up, she went to the 'fresher and washed her face, while putting on a casual dress. Nothing fancy. Just something loose, and didn't even bother with her hair or make up. She wanted to go on a walk. She needed to get out of this room that held so many bad, confusing memories. There was a garden in the center of the base, maybe she could convince Arlo to walk around with her. It wasn't an unreasonable request, and it didn't involve technology of any kind, so no one would think she'd be out trying to steal information. She had R2 for that.

And so, without another thought, she left the room, hoping that for once, luck would be on her side and certain beings would leave her alone.

**oOoOoOo**

It was a most unfortunate thing to have someone on your mind while you were trying to work. All morning, Vader had been attempting to hold meetings and do much needed reports, but he just couldn't do it. At nine-thirty he'd given up and headed for his hanger bay to continue working on some of the prototypes that had been sent to him. He'd com'ed R2, and the droid had come to him without hesitation. In retrospect, it probably wasn't a good idea to make friends with the senator's droid, but he couldn't really help it. He liked the droid. R2 was surprisingly sassy and outspoken. It made him wonder how 3PO could stand to be around him.

Despite his like of the droid, R2 unfortunately belonged to Senator Amidala. The same woman that had been on his mind almost constantly for the last several days. The same woman that was distracting him from working on anything else.

The Force was a mysterious thing. It gave so much great power, yet it also controlled and manipulated on its own accord. For whatever reason, it had brought him and the senator together, and now he was cursed to brood over her. It wouldn't have been so bad had he not had his recent memories of her. Memories he shouldn't have, but memories he'd kill to retain.

She was going to be the death of him. He knew. He was already going crazy. He'd been up most of the night pacing and dueling with droids. Last night he had not gone to the senator's chambers as it was a weekend night. Weekends had not really been made clear in their initial agreement, but he was pretty sure since the senator only wanted to talk to her friends who she only saw at work, then that meant he couldn't take advantage of the benefits of having her. It was fair. It sounded so simple.

But it wasn't. It had taken all of Vader's strength of will not to go last night and have his way with the woman. He'd only had sex twice and already it was all he could think about. Had he really so little self-control? This was pathetic! He'd gone _days _without eating or drinking anything, had spent weeks out in the wilderness devoid of any pleasantry or necessity in the name of training. Yet, one small taste of the flesh, and he couldn't hardly stand to be apart from it? Pathetic!

He'd been locked up in this suit too long. His air supply had been switched some sort of gas or his respirator was malfunctioning and was slowly kill him, causing him to hallucinate and act rashly. Surely this was the true cause of all of this? Surely these explanations were more plausible than anything else his _feelings _were telling him.

Actually, he wasn't even sure _what _his feelings were telling him, even though they were screaming at him. He had never been very good with relating to beings, that's why he preferred droids. But this mess was wearing him down. Fast. He had to contain this before it was too late.

But too late for what? That was the billion credit question. What was happening to him? Why did he feel the need to be with the senator? Surely if the Force was driving him to her, it would at least give him an explanation! That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Life really just liked throwing punches at him. From such a young age he'd been beaten down, manipulated, abused, and neglected, but he'd endured. He'd taken everything life had thrown at him in stride and even come out the stronger for it. When hardships came his way now he'd learned to punch back, harder and faster. He had made sure that nothing in his life would ever hurt him again, save his own master. No one could hurt him if he hurt them first, no one could leave him if he didn't have anyone.

That was all different now, however. There _was _someone that could leave him, someone that could hurt him. Senator Amidala had wedged herself into his life. He wasn't sure where she fit in the grand scheme of things, but she was definitely in his life now. So much so that he could not stop thinking about her. His mind had been almost completely taken over by the thought of the Naboo Senator. It was terrifying.

And here he was, left to wonder what would become of him because of her, what would become of her because of him. This was not healthy. To be so obsessed with one person, somehow he knew that it wasn't right. He'd learned this lesson before. Getting too close to someone, loving until the point where your entire world was destroyed because they were gone… He'd _made _this mistake, and yet here he was, setting himself up for potentially the same failure.

Senator Amidala should mean _nothing _to him. He'd only met her several months ago. She was an enemy, he knew that. He knew she was probably using these hour sessions each day for a little rendezvous with other rebel sympathizers or rebels themselves. He wasn't so stupid as to think she just wanted to talk to her friends. The whole point of her staying here was to cut her off from everyone so that she would begin cracking, feel as though she were insane. He'd set it all up so perfectly. Her mental health had actually declined faster than he would have thought. Had he let her continue communication at the office it would have potentially taken up to a year before her confinement would have gotten to her. It was pleasant to see she had been breaking after only several months.

His job had been coming to a close. His work was almost done. A little more patience and within the next couple of months she would have broken and he would have been able to execute her and continue on with his life. It had all been going according to plan.

Except one thing. One thing hadn't gone according to plan, and that was this infuriating pull towards the senator. She was the only being that had ever caused Vader to pause, to think. She was not Force sensitive, yet she had strange powers over him. It was something about her eyes, the way she looked at him. He had planned for everything in order to make her fail, yet he hadn't taken into account what her presence would do to _him_.

And why should he have? No one else had ever affected him like this. He'd never met anyone that made him so angry, yet he actually didn't _want _to kill them. He could admit that now. It would have been easier to have just killed her the moment he'd entered the Palace and his master had introduced them. But it was too late now. The senator had amused him that first day with her fear of his flying. She'd impressed him by standing up for herself that first night. She displayed a certain authority that demanded respect. And her actions in the senate certainly deserved recognition. He'd heard of Senator Amidala before, followed her career off and on. Maybe that's why he'd been doomed the moment he'd met her. Because deep down, he'd always been a little curious of her.

R2's beeping brought Vader out of his brooding only to realize he'd welded a piece of scrap metal to the bottom of a speeder. He growled in frustration and disgust with himself. Where in the galaxy had his mind gone? Why had he let it wonder so precariously?

The sound of metal being ripped screeched in the air as Vader tore it off and threw it as hard as he could towards the opposite end of the hanger. A satisfying crash sounded as it hit the wall. But the satisfaction was short lived. He couldn't stay here and risk ruining anything else. If he were to truly get anything done, he needed a clear mind.

Looking down at the droid, who was beeping in concern at him, Vader shook his head. "No more for today," he said. "Find Threepio and have him escort you back to my wing."

The little droid asked if he was all right, but Vader didn't bother to answer. Of course he was! He just needed to get a certain woman out of his mind.

Stalking out of the hanger, the Sith decided to just walk around. His long strides devoured hallway after hallway with alarming speeds. Everyone cleared out of his way when he came near. A part of him was pleased with this. They feared him and he relished it. And yet another part was saddened. Very saddened. Was he really so horrible that no one wanted to even be near? Wasn't that what he wanted? Why wasn't he happy with it?

Senator Amidala had never shrunk back from his presence. Maybe that's why he had been attracted to her. But she did now. He didn't miss the way she shivered when she thought he wasn't looking, or how she would no longer meet his gaze. That light that had been in her eyes before had been all but snuffed out and it was because of him. A wave of anger filled him at the thought. He wanted that light back! He wanted to see those eyes smolder at him again. He would much rather have the senator hate him than be afraid of him. Right?

He was about to check in on the intelligence department, when he froze. Up ahead, walking at a leisurely pace, was Senator Amidala and his personal assistant. They were talking calmly to one another, but that's not what upset him. What distressed him was the fact that they were walking arm in arm. They looked like a couple out for a Saturday stroll. They were even heading to the gardens.

Rage bubbled just below the surface as Vader watched them, his hands clenched tightly into fists. The few pictures that hung near him were shaking. R2 had ended up following him instead of finding 3PO and he chirped in distress at being lifted into the air by the Force. But Vader didn't really hear him. Instead his whole focus was of that conniving woman and his obviously brain damaged assistant.

He was about to storm over and slice that stupid man into several pieces and lock Amidala in her room, when he paused again. This was good, right? He knew he had been getting too attached to her. The senator should mean nothing to him, and this was a good way to remember that and let go. This woman meant nothing to him. She was just like all the others in her profession.

But he couldn't believe his own lie. He _did _care very much that she was with another man. He _did _have some sort of strange attachment to her. How could he not? They'd _slept _together for Force sake! And even though he hated to admit it, she was the only one that made him feel even a little less lonely when they were together. She was the only one that had given him any amount of pleasure since he was a small child. The ache in his chest that had slowly been forming since he'd first met her would ease when he was with her.

And there was the fact that Lord Vader did not like to share. It could very well all be an innocent gesture and his personal assistant was just showing good manners to a woman of her station by walking with her, but it didn't really help how he felt much. No, he had to make sure that the senator realized that she was his for as long as this deal was in place. Maybe it was time to revisit the terms of their agreement.

Striding over, the senator froze when he was still a good ten meters away even with her back turned. She could sense him. Further proof that there was something pulling them together. This was the will of the Force.

When his assistant caught on, he turned with wide eyes, before his face became neutral. With the senator still on his arm, he bowed to the Sith. "Good morning, Lord Vader."

"What are you doing with the senator?" No use toeing around the issue. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. This man was lucky he was kind enough to ask instead of just choking him.

Apparently his assistant realized how lucky he was too, as his green eyes widened. "The senator expressed a desire to see the gardens, my lord," he said quickly. "I did not think it was an unreasonable request. Should I escort her back to your wing?"

Vader stared down at the tiny woman before him, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her face was in that insufferable mask she wore as a senator, but he supposed he should be glad it wasn't that eerie blank she'd had the first day after their sexual encounter. He should have her thrown back in her room, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to do it. "No," he said slowly, carefully watching the senator's face for any sort of change. Her mouth twitched, but it went back into her mask again.

"Shall I continue to escort her to the gardens then, my lord?"

Rage filled the Sith again, but he squashed it. He couldn't kill this man. He was the first competent assistant he'd found. "No," he repeated firmly. "I will take the senator myself."

Finally, the senator reacted! She stared up at him, those brown eyes blazing. There it was! That spark, that life! So much anger, yet it was dimmed with fear. Slowly she was becoming herself again, but he would have to wait a little while longer before things became normal between them again. If it could go back to the way it was before.

Apparently showing around a woman when he could be doing work was so out of the norm that his assistant looked as though he wanted to verify he'd heard correctly, but thought better of it. Yes, truly this man was good. He had learned. Quickly, he disentangled his arm from the senator's, bowed his head to her and then deeper to Vader. "Very good, my lord."

Vader bother to respond. His full attention was back on the woman who had once again averted her eyes. When the lieutenant was gone, the Sith hesitated. Should he say anything? He'd once learned proper protocol for entertaining women, but he'd never actually used it. He supposed he should offer his arm, as his assistant had, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She despised him, and he didn't exactly want to touch her either. This was all still so new to him.

So instead, he gestured forward with one hand, pointing in the direction they should go. Amidala scowled before walking off in the direction he indicated. R2 rolled forward as well, leaving Vader to once again question his actions. He shouldn't be doing this, but the Force was whispering to him. He had to follow its counsel.

After a few minutes of walking, they came to the entrance of the garden. It wasn't the prettiest place he'd ever seen, and he was certain the senator thought the same. She came from such a beautiful green planet with fresh air and waterfalls. This little dome filled with a couple trees, shrubs, and flowers could hardly impress her, though it would anyone else on Coruscant. Oddly enough, however, she walked in, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She must really miss her home planet. That was good too, right? It meant his plan was working.

They walked around the paths for a few minutes in silence, the senator in front while Vader allowed himself to trail after her, his hands clasp firmly behind his back. He noticed R2 had opted to stay by the entrance. When they were far enough into the garden and there was no chance of anyone hearing them, the senator spun around, eyes burning, as she glared up at him. "What do you want?" she hissed.

It was good to see that fire back, but at the same time, it annoyed him. Crossing his arms over his chest, Vader glared down at her. "To ensure that my charge is not getting into trouble after she tricked my assistant into letting her wander about."

"I wasn't wandering," the senator posted her hands on her hips, only to wince and instead cross her arms. Vader hadn't missed the pained expression. Was she hurt? "I just wanted to walk in the gardens."

Being a Sith Lord meant that one destroyed and gained power. It meant that he delighted in the suffering of others. But for reasons similar to what had gotten him into this confusing predicament with this woman in the first place, he didn't like the fact that she was hurt. It didn't set well with him. So, instead of continuing his lecture or dragging her back to her room as punishment for her insolence, he took a step forward.

The senator immediately took several back. "What are you doing?" she asked, not completely successful in keeping the fear from her voice.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, gesturing to her hip. "What did you do?"

She appeared confused, then surprised before the anger was back. "_I _didn't do anything. It was _you_."

Vader scowled, trying to remember when he could have harmed her when his eyes widened and he felt his face grow hot. He hadn't blushed in _years _and suddenly he was finding himself embarrassed. Embarrassed and ashamed.

Looking down at his mechanical hand, he realized that he must have harmed her when he'd held her. There were times when he forgot about the strength in his prosthetic limb. He had no feeling in it, so it was hard to judge how much pressure he was applying. Although in normal circumstances he wouldn't have cared, he found he was angry with himself for causing this sort of injury.

It was not in a Sith's nature to do this, yet it wouldn't be the first time Vader had strayed outside the norm. He walked towards the senator, hand outstretched. She backed away, eyes wide in fear. She feared him, she hated him, these things should have been fine, but they weren't. He didn't _want _her fear, he didn't _want _her hate. Not anymore. He wanted something else, something that he had not had in over a decade, something he dared not name. He couldn't deny it anymore. The Force was screaming at him in affirmation.

Eventually she was backed into a tree and had nowhere to go. She tried to strike him, but he caught her hand in his mechanical. Gently, he put it down by her side, and reached out with his organic hand to her once again. She tensed, but he ignored it. He spread his hand over her hip, and watched as she winced. This was the spot. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force, to the weaker side, and focused all his energy on that one spot.

After staying that way for a few minutes, he pulled his hand away and stepped back satisfied that it was healed. The senator was staring at him warily. "Do you wish to continue walking?" he asked, hoping to draw attention away to what he'd just done. Now that he had healed her, on some level, he regretted it. Had he once again taken a step back in his training by doing this? He needed to get away from her, yet he didn't want to give her up.

She obviously was having trouble deciding what to do. She'd come out here for a reason, perhaps, like him, to just think. He'd interrupted her peace, and all because he'd felt _jealous. _It was unworthy of him. But he couldn't deny what he felt, at least not from himself.

He really was going insane.

"I want to walk around a little while longer," the senator spoke up after a moment.

Vader nodded. "Wander around if you must," he said snidely, before turning and walking towards the exit. If this is what she wanted, he didn't care, or that was what he told himself. He needed to get away also, to think. What was he doing? Was he really falling into this pathetic trap of weakness?

As he stood in the doorway next to R2, watching the senator mindlessly walk around, he couldn't help but study her. Her hair was so thick and wavy and it shown in the sunlight. He wished he had this damned mask off so he could look at her without the tint of red.

Once more, R2 beeped in concern, but Vader hardly heard him.

_Kriff_. This woman was going to be the end of him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Poor Vader, you young fool. He won't get away with this. Padmé won't either. Sex just complicates things too much.

Reviews please? :3


	13. Chapter 13: Difference

**Chapter Thirteen: Difference**

The Force was shifting, the careful tilting towards the Dark Side was tipping towards the Light ever so slightly. Emperor Palpatine didn't like it. Something was happening, and he could only suspect that it had something to do with his apprentice.

There was much to admire about his young apprentice. Darth Vader was barely a score and yet he was already a powerful Sith Lord. Almost too powerful. Had the boy not been in that accident, the Emperor wondered if he would have been killed by now. Vader was still so young and ambitious he could have continued on with his previous momentum and destroyed his master years ago. But fortunately, the boy's recklessness and the accident had tempered that ambition before it could truly manifest itself.

Still, the ambition was there. Sidious knew this. It was within all master apprentice relationships of the Sith. Soon Vader would become impatient with his role as second of the Empire and would no doubt attempt to be rid of his master. It was what a Sith Master waited for with anticipation. But not Sidious. He was not ready to give up his throne just yet, but he was not ready to lose Vader as his apprentice either. One of them would have to die, and the Emperor didn't want either option to happen. At least not any time soon.

Thus far Vader had been a loyal apprentice. That was the natural effect when raising an apprentice from such an early age in Sidious's experience. Vader didn't know any better. He'd been under his master's thumb so long it was hard for him to realistically see any other way of life. Just as Sidious had hoped. But that didn't mean the boy liked him. No, in fact, Palpatine knew of his apprentice's hatred for him. That was good. Hate made him strong. And yet, too strong.

Sidious had read an ancient manuscript long ago predicting the rise of Vader. A powerful Sith Lord that would destroy the entire Jedi order. In his younger years, he had entertained the idea of being that Sith, of slaughtering the Jedi and laying waste to worlds. That was not where his talents lay, however. His gift was in manipulation and foreseeing the future. He certainly wasn't deficient in his fighting skills, but even he had to admit that his skills were lacking in comparison to his apprentice's.

Darth Vader was a force to be reckoned with. The very air shook with his Force presences. Vader's presence was suffocating, his aura burned brightly with his talents in the Force just as his physical appearance dominated a room. There had never been such an incredibly powerful Force sensitive in history, or at least not that Sidious had found. The boy had been _born _of the Force. His power was expected.

Yes, Darth Vader was a powerful Sith Lord. He made the perfect apprentice. Young, powerful, and incredibly intelligent. It would be a waste if Vader decided to rise against him and Sidious was forced to kill him. Just as it would be a waste if Vader killed _him. _As talented as his apprentice was, he was still young, still foolish and reckless. There was not a being in the galaxy that was as impatient as the boy. To rule a galaxy at such a young age could potentially have severe consequences. After a lifetime of working to bring the galaxy into the control of the Sith it would be a waste if the boy lost it again to the Side of Light.

But thus far Vader had shown no interest in usurping his master. In fact, over the last several years, Sidious came to suspect that his apprentice felt secure and even complacent in his position by his side. Complacency was not what the life of the Sith was about, but then again, it served his purposes. He still had so many plans to set into motion, and having to worry about an apprentice trying to destroy him would only get in the way.

But there was something now that was whispering to Sidious that not all was well with his apprentice. Over the last several months he'd felt Vader's mood fluctuate in varying degrees. The boy's shields were very good, he could hide much from his master, but the ripples in the Force could hardly be hidden. He knew Senator Amidala's presence had infuriated his apprentice, that the boy was eager to execute the woman, but he'd thought the boy had gotten over that and understood the need to keep her around. And after his time on Bimmisaari, Vader had seemed well on his way to forever cementing himself in the Dark Side of the Force. But it hadn't lasted. Instead, coming back from Despayre, Vader had seemed… uninterested. Almost as though he no longer received pleasure from creating terror.

It was a sign. Something was changing in Vader. His loyal apprentice was planning something. It was the only explanation. The Force was telling him that something was happening. Indeed, he felt a tremor in the Force indicating that the balance he had created was off. What was Vader doing? The boy knew how weak the Light was, why was he not entrenching himself in the Dark?

This wasn't the first time the boy had experimented with the Light. When he'd been younger, Vader had been quite good at healing himself. As part of his training, after Sidious would punish his apprentice, he refused medicine. The Sith way was gaining strength through suffering. A Sith's skills were not in healing, but destroying. It had taken quite a few punishments in order to instill that into Vader when he'd been a child. Eventually, Vader learned that healing himself showed a sign of weakness and he hadn't done it again.

It had been ironically amusing that as soon as Vader had given up seeking that Light for healing that he had been grievously injured. The boy had only been seventeen at the time, and it was then that Sidious had become concerned that his apprentice would rise against him. Fortunately, Vader had been too reckless and impatient, and his injuries were the perfect excuse to damper the boy's ambition. Without focusing his energy on healing, it had been a good opportunity to inhibit him physically so that the elder Sith could keep up. Sidious firmly believed it had helped him and given him several more years to plan to get ready for when his apprentice was ready to challenge his rule.

Was that what the boy was planning now? After all these years? Had his desire for more power finally caught up with him? Was this slight shift his attempt to heal himself, repair his body for when he _would _strike? This had to be monitored carefully. Even as he was, Vader could very well kill him. The boy was good. He would have to have some of his spies placed near Vader's wing as well as have them sabotage the medical droids that saw to him. This plan that Vader was hatching, it could not come to fruition. Sidious would see to that.

**oOoOoOo**

Padmé stood looking at herself in the mirror, wondering what had happened to Darth Vader. He was once again in his ignoring phase since their time together in the gardens, save for when he came to take her at night. Nothing had changed, except everything had changed.

Since her fateful walk about the gardens, the senator had become more inclined to think well of Vader— blasphemous though it was. But the Dark Lord of the Sith had done something that had gone above and beyond the realm of normal with him. He'd _healed _her. She wasn't sure how or why, but when he'd touched her hip that day, she'd felt a strange tingling sensation that was both cool and warm at the same time, before it had stopped. She'd wanted to ask him what it was, but he'd changed the subject, almost like he'd been embarrassed. He probably had been. It was only later that day when she'd come back to her room when she couldn't help but look at her injury again since Vader had touched her. Imagine her surprise when she'd lifted her dress to find the discoloration gone.

Why would Lord Vader heal her? He'd been gentle with her recently too. Even though he was still cold towards her, he seemed to make a conscience effort not to crush her hip with his hand anymore. That was uncharacteristically thoughtful of him.

Walking back to her bed, Padmé picked up her pad and opened the file "enigma." Maybe it was time to work on her list of Vader again. She'd been so distraught and angry since this whole thing started she hadn't bothered to record anything about the Sith. But she had learned a lot, and someday it really might be worth something to someone. Maybe in the end, this information would be all that stood between victory and defeat.

Laying back, Padmé thought through all that she knew about Vader now. She added humanoid to the list right away. He was at least compatible to her in _that _way, which meant that he was organic. Thus far she had no solid proof that he was cyborg, though he could understand the droid binary. His whole phobia with touching still applied. The only times he seemed all right with any form of touch was when he initiated it, whether it was for healing, dragging her away, or in sex. _He _had to make the first move or else it was not acceptable. She still had to wonder at that. Was this fear because of some traumatic experience, the simple fact that he hated touch, or was it due to his training, that he would automatically strike should he feel anything touch him? Or some twisted combination of the three?

There was also the fact that, although it seemed unlikely, Vader was true to his word. Of course that could change, but thus far he had remained true…as far as she knew. If he lying to her, he was doing a damned good job of it. He also seemed to have a sense of fairness. It was obvious that he was harsh, but he also seemed fair in his own strange way, even generous when it came to her. He'd given her belongings back, _everything _that had been taken, including R2. And while the agreement had been made to trade an hour for an hour, Vader had only taken half an hour at the most at a time, while not demanding she cut down her hour at all. Had he taken into account her emotional trauma?

That wasn't very likely. Vader was a Sith after all. Sith delighted in tormenting others. But if Vader really did, he hadn't shown it. If he really did like harming her, he wouldn't have healed her, would he?

Darth Vader was an enigma for the ages. He was some sort of oxymoron wrapped in deadly redundancy. He just plain didn't make_ sense_. He was still exactly the same, yet so very different. Even the air around him seemed to have changed, yet was still the same cold darkness she'd grown to recognize. What was Darth Vader, really?

Idly, she wondered if she should have put decent lover on the list. She had to snort at the idea, though, since he certainly wasn't ideal. But even though she was still disgusted with herself for what she did every night, she couldn't help the small part of her that was…excited. Was this why Cotrilla kept doing this? Padmé worried that if she kept doing this she would become desensitized, enough that she would no longer care. And what then? Would the rest of her moral base crumble as well? Is that what happened to Vader? Had he done something over and over until he just didn't care anymore? She shivered at the thought.

There was no way in the seven layers of Sith hell that Padmé would ever become like Vader. She wouldn't allow herself. Men like Vader and the Emperor had a weakness of character that when in the face of adversity, they crumbled and turned to darkness as a way of easy escape. It took so much more strength to continue on in the path of Light. Padmé had been raised right. She would not be twisted by evil, even if she had to continue to sacrifice herself.

But what sort of pressure had Vader faced that turned him towards the path of wickedness? For that matter, when had it happened? No one knew where Vader was from or anything remotely personal about him. For the first time, Padmé stopped and questioned just how old Vader was. She'd never considered it before. Vader was just….Vader. He was ageless. There was no beginning or end for Vader, not that anyone could see. He just suddenly appeared alongside the Emperor and not much else was thought about age. But for Padmé this was something intriguing and important.

How old _was _Vader? Thus far she hadn't thought about it. Who had she really given herself to? Her mind suddenly formed all sorts of horrible images of some old, perverted, mutilated male that had just agreed to this because he'd wanted sex. But with his stamina and his agility in a fight, he couldn't be _that _old, right? His hesitancy in sex could mean anything from youthful inexperience to older, wiser learned caution. She wasn't allowed to see his face or any other part of him during the act, and she was always backwards, so she couldn't exactly judge. Even if she could peek out through her blindfold to look down at his hands, they were left gloved.

His age made all of this seem suddenly more weird and twisted. There was probably no chance that he was a good looking middle-aged man. No, he was probably an older, cyborg male of some alien species, that had a mutilated face and now had to wear a life support suit. She thanked the Force she'd been on contraceptives before all this to keep her menstruation regular. She hadn't thought she'd use it for its intended purpose. At least not yet.

_That _was not something she wanted to think about. Darth Vader's child? That was too horrible to even try to entertain. It'd probably end up as some psychotic little bastard that inherited Vader's Force abilities and spent its entire life trying to kill her while its father went out to unleash terror in the galaxy. _STOP IT! _Padmé grabbed her head desperately trying to get rid of the images of some little green baby that would end up stabbing her through the face with a lightsaber or eat her from the inside out. She couldn't keep up this line of thinking or else she'd probably bring up the question of if she could ever love such a child. It would be hers, but also _his_…

It did, however, make her think of her future family. If she could ever have one now. Somehow she didn't think that men would be impressed that she'd slept with Lord Vader. Especially in her culture or with the sort of men she hoped to attract. Being a former Queen of Naboo, it would be taken as a hard blow should her people find out she'd sold herself like this. Young queens were the perfect, pure virgins, and even after their term, they were expect to remain chaste until their wedding night. Obviously that wouldn't happened with her.

So what sort of man would she end up with, if she got one at all? She hoped he would be kind and understanding, one with strong morals and values. One that was a firm believer in justice. She had always wanted a husband that was her partner in life, one that would support her just as she would him. A man that was not threatened by her fame or her independence, though would be right there for her when she needed or wanted him. Someone humble but confident. And of course it wouldn't hurt if he was handsome and a great lover. Someone that could make her body sing the way…

"By the Force," Padmé sat up straight, suddenly horrified. Had she just been about to compare her future husband to _Vader _and hope that that future man would be as _good _as the Sith?!Hopefully the rebellion would find what they needed to destroy the Empire soon so she could get out of his mess and never have to think of Vader ever again. She was clearly losing her mind.

But that was impossible now. Vader had firmly branded himself within her mind. He was a permanent fixture there, camping out in her frontal lobe. With her luck she'd probably live a long life and maintain a wonderful memory. Then she'd never be able to forget the bastard. And when her future children or grandchildren asked her what she thought of Lord Vader, she would be forced to remember all of her time with him.

It didn't matter that Vader was good in bed. Padmé was confident that there was another man out there that would be able to please her the way Vader did. Better, even! She just had to believe that a tall, strong stranger would come sweep her up off her feet. She was being ridiculous, she knew, but she couldn't help indulge in the fantasy of some blonde haired, blue eyed Prince Charming coming in a golden speeder to take her away. Yeah. Like that was ever going to happen.

It was only eleven thirty at night, which meant that Vader would be coming in another hour and a half. For whatever reason, the Sith had designated that one in the morning was their allotted time together. His reasons for this escaped her, but she didn't question it. Normally she'd try to get a little sleep before he came, but tonight her mind was just too active.

Even though she was still revolted, she was angry with herself for the tiny, _tiny _feeling of excitement that he was coming again tonight. She despised the man, she did. She hated everything he stood for and what he was, but dammit if the feelings he elicited from her during these sessions didn't drive her insane. It could be so much better, it really could, but for whatever reason, she was fine with just this. What was wrong with her? She was like some sort of horny teenager!

With nothing else to do but wait for when Vader arrived, the holovid sounded like the only means to alleviate boredom. Switching it on, she flipped through the stations before realizing that there was nothing on. Even the news seemed to be having a slow night. _Probably because Vader hasn't been out that much recently, _she mused. Usually the big stories happened several days after Vader came back from somewhere. The Man in Black made the headlines. Simple as that.

But with nothing else to distract her, she eventually settled on a corny soap opera re-run. It was at least ten-years-old or so, and she was amazed it was allowed to play with the new Imperial Sensors being set up. But then, it must be very cliché and tacky if the Empire found it as no threat. Which meant it wouldn't be all that interesting. Still, she watched. It was either watch _All my Larva _or think about Vader some more. No contest.

It was a testament to how lonely and bored she really was that she was watching this _and _getting into it. Padmé hadn't been sucked into something so corny and, quite frankly, bad since she was still a child. A child before her queen years at that. If she thought about it, the plot was extremely cliché and predictable, and the acting was terrible, but for whatever reason— probably because she was stressed and tired— it all seemed so unexpected to her at the moment. It allowed her an escape, and something she didn't have to think too hard about, which was perfect.

A few episodes in, she was startled by the com. Instantly she dove for the controller and turned off the holo. The last thing she wanted was for Vader to know that she watched such crappy holos, even if he probably already knew. She couldn't stand for him to see it as she wanted to save what little of her dignity that she could.

True to form, the Sith didn't wait long before simply opening the door and stepped in. Padmé held back a sigh as she stood up and went to kneel on the bed. She wondered why he preferred to do it this way. It was all probably because he wished to keep this all as impersonal as possible, and since he was so tall, he needed her to be elevated as well. Still, even with the bed being raised as it was, she wondered if he had to bend his knees a lot. A weird thought, but then, she was full of those lately.

When he saw that she was ready, he walked in, his stride noticeably slower, before he took out the blindfold and tied it around her head. It came as a surprise when the leather gloved hand brushed her hair out of her face before he tied it. Again, she had to wonder at this man. What was Lord Vader really? What was he _really _like?

With the blindfold on, she noticed that he turned off the lights. Once it was off, she couldn't see a thing. Everything was black. The strange hissing from when he took off his helmet sounded followed by the sound of his belt being undone. And as always, soon she felt gloved hands lift up her night gown. Only instead of starting right away, as he always had, it seemed Vader had paused. Padmé face heated up as her bottom was left exposed, and she wondered if he was still struggling with his belt or if…was he…staring at her?

A shiver ran through her body at the thought, and once more she pictured some perverted old man not completely unlike the Emperor staring at her. But it wasn't the Emperor, it was just Vader. She tried to picture that Prince Charming again, but knew that no such man was touching her. After only another moment's hesitation, she felt him take her by the hips again, and press into her.

A hiss escaped her lips, as it always did, and he waited for her to adjust. Vader was a large man and it stood to reason that all parts of him were large in order to be proportional to his body. Padmé happened to be a petite woman, short and slim. It always took her a minute or so to adjust to having something invade her body like this. Surprisingly, Vader was always patient in this. Such an impatient man patiently waited for her before he started to take his own pleasure. Bizarrely gallant of the man…even if he was taking advantage of her in the first place.

But when he sensed she was ready, he began his steady rhythm, rocking back and forth first, getting her ready, before he would inevitably lose patience and want more. It was always the same, but that was fine with Padmé. She could handle this as long as it was predictable. She wasn't sure how she'd feel if he decided to be spontaneous in the bedroom. What would that even mean anyway?

But soon Padmé couldn't think about anything and focused all her attention on what was happening. Vader had picked up speed now, and was starting to become more aggressive. His hand had started to tighten around her hip, but he quickly eased up, as if remembering that he had hurt her at one point. But at the moment, the senator couldn't have cared less. She wanted release just as badly as he did, and she had decided that perhaps she could come to terms with this situation better if she would think of this as using Vader just the same as he was using her. That made this seem a lot better. She was using _him_ for _her _pleasure. Not only men could do this. There were plenty of woman out there that used men, why not her?

Trying to keep that in mind, Padmé decided that maybe she should try to enjoy herself as much as possible instead of beating herself up about this. It surprisingly wasn't too hard. There was still pain, but also so much pleasure. She just had to imagine that it was something else, that she was with someone else. It was easier to take pleasure and not feel as guilty.

When it was starting to get faster and harder, and finally Padmé could finally allow herself let go, Vader suddenly stopped. It was so unexpected Padmé gasped, and a whine escaped her lips before she could stop herself. It wasn't fair! She had been so close! What the hells was he doing? Was he trying to be cruel?

The harsh breathing behind her indicated that he had been close too. Had he really finished before her? That had never happened before! Of all the cruel things to have happen, just when she'd decided to make the best of this and enjoy herself!

Yet Vader didn't pull away, and he was still breathing harshly behind her. Was he really finished or was this some sort of weird pause? She felt him shift and his breathing was muffled slightly by something. And just when she was getting too impatient, suddenly something warm was placed on her neck, startling her.

It was his hand. His _real _hand. A flesh and blood hand and not some sort of weird tentacle or metal limb. He was touching her. A chill ran down Padmé's spine as she felt the rough, calloused hand so very lightly stroking her skin. He was touching her. _Really _touching her. No gloves, no real reason for doing it. He'd _wanted _to touch her.

Padmé bit her lower lip to try to suppress any unwanted emotions from being revealed until later. Somehow, though, she knew that the dynamics of their relationship had once again shifted. They were entering into yet another unknown. She could feel his uncertainty, his want, it made her wonder if this was doing as much damage to him as it was to her.

But Vader was ever the tenacious man, and pushed the boundaries even further. He began his pace once more, which caused Padmé to groan. He picked up right where he left off, only this time, going farther. His hand, his _real _hand, slowly moved down from her neck, to her chest. His hand was feather light, gentle, which was in such sharp contrast to the rest of him that was now slamming into her without pity. The contrast was almost too much and caused a sensory overload. What sent her over the edge was when that calloused hand moved farther down and grabbed her breast.

What was happening here? She cried out her release, unable to stop herself from shaking, even as he kept going for several more strokes before he grunted. They both slowed, panting, and when he withdrew his hands, she was dismayed by the loose of warmth. It seemed to take longer for both of them to recover.

When he finally did pull away, Padmé shakily lay down on the bed and tried to catch her breath and wrap her mind around what had happened tonight. Where things becoming more…_personal_? This wasn't supposed to happen.

She never got to think on it much more, as she soon feel asleep, not remembering if Vader made it out of the room before she'd slept.

**oOoOoOo**

Obi-Wan sat looking over the communique that had been sent to him from Bail Organa. It was a list of planets that were to be investigated. Apparently Bail had gained a source that believed that some, if not all of these places were of some importance to the Empire. Why that would be, he didn't know, nor did his source, but whoever gave this information felt it was vital.

Looking over the list, the Jedi frowned. Most of these planets were in the Outer Rim, some not even part of the Empire at all. Some of these planets he couldn't even remember anything about, so it was hard to guess what the Empire might be after there. Maybe they were hiding something?

_Like a secret battle station, perhaps? _he thought as he saw the last piece of information gathered. It didn't surprise him in the least that there was some sort of secret project in the works, but he was concerned about was the fact that they were covering it up by calling it an 'oreextractor'. Those were significantly large pieces of equipment that looked rather brutal. Granted, the Empire had a flare for creating large ships and bombers, so how large was _this _particular monstrosity going to be?

And what was more, where was Bail getting this information? Obi-Wan trusted the senator, but last time they'd talked, Bail had been worried more about Senator Amidala's rumored arrest and suspected betrayal. There had been no mention of a secret informant on the inside. The other man was passionate about his friends, maybe he'd just not thought to mention it. Or maybe…maybe Senator Amidala _was _the new informant?

While Obi-Wan usually stayed out of the Core and usually didn't bother with watching the news feeds, he did remember Senator Amidala from when she'd been Queen of Naboo and he'd been but a padawan. It wasn't in Amidala's nature to betray anything, and her arrest must have been a sham that she'd gotten out of. She was notoriously good for getting out of such scrapes. But how in the galaxy had she managed to get arrest but then come out with information? He hadn't had a chance to speak to Bail in several months, and just received this message with the secret information, so maybe it was time to talk again.

But that wasn't the only thing on Obi-Wan's mind. He'd been monitoring the Force for a little over a week now, and he was detecting minute changes. Tiny, almost unnoticeable flares towards the Light. Maybe he was just imagining it, maybe not. But there was something telling the Jedi Knight that there was something much larger at work here than what met the eye. And the Force was telling him that it had something to do with Senator Amidala.

He just hoped she hadn't gotten into anything over her head. But in the meantime, he had to see to scouting out these planets.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A score = 20 years. Just a reminder. Plot will thicken soon, so beware!

And thanks again everyone for the kind words! I really do appreciate it. Can I have more reviews, please? They're what make me write faster. :)


	14. Chapter 14: Acquaintances

**Chapter Fourteen: Acquaintances **

There were times when Vader despised the fact that his ability for stealth was greatly lessened due to his hissing respirator and the glowing on his chest. He could do it, could go around without being seen, but that required quite a bit of concentration and the Force. Already Vader's mind was constantly split between keeping up his mental shields at all hours of the day and to move with relative grace in this blasted suit. Sure, he made it look easy, but it wasn't really. This suit was heavy, weighing him down at least seventy pounds. And add in the fact that he was almost constantly trying to read his surroundings and those around him…

Stealth was just a waste of energy in the end, so he had to improvise. But on missions such as this, it was hard. _Impossible_, really. And it was all because the Emperor was displeased with him.

A shrill laugh from somewhere in the room caught Vader's attention and ending his brooding. How he _hated _these gatherings. He looked out from his dark corner of the room to watch as all of Coruscant's rich and powerful mingling together in lavished wastefulness. They were disgusting, all of them. He could sense their selfishness and stupidity. They all put so much faith in their money and position. They knew nothing of true power or the supremacy of the Force. He wished he could kill all of them. It wouldn't be hard. He'd done it before when he'd killed the entire governing family at their gathering several years ago on Bestine IV.

But that was sadly not his job here tonight. Tonight he was here by the Emperor's command and to watch Senator Amidala as she mingled flawlessly among all of these sophisticated types. Normally when he attended such gathers, he made sure to stand on the outskirts so as not to attract too much attention. It was hard though considering he was the only two meter tall man dressed in an all-black life support suit with a mask and a respirator. He didn't like the attention he received or the company that naturally flocked to him: brainless suck-ups that wanted to get in on his good side for when he was Emperor someday. Pathetic.

Ambitious Moffs would bring their daughters to meet him, power-hungry officers wanted to flatter him. He hated these people. They all only wanted to use him, to get something from him. His thoughts turned towards a certain senator.

While it was true Senator Amidala was using him, she wasn't exactly like the others. The others flattered him, she did not. The others wanted his wealth, she wanted none. And most of the women that were stupid enough to throw themselves at him wanted to become Empress one day. The very idea disgusted Senator Amidala. She wasn't like that at all.

Their relationship—if it could be described as such—was complicated at best. They didn't like each other, could hardly talk without one of them getting angry, and the awkwardness between them had manifested itself quickly ever since the first night that they had been together. But she was not using him the way other woman would like to, and she wasn't exactly afraid of him. She was, but she didn't let it control her. Her presence in his life was upsetting and a major disruption…yet there was also some merit. Although he wasn't sure he could admit to anything particular just yet.

Tearing his eyes off the senator, he found his master in the center of the largest group. It was hard to miss his master. The Dark Side radiated so potently from the man that even the most Force dull individual would have to be brain dead to not sense him. He watched the older Sith for several minutes before he had to look away. He hated that man.

Traitorous thoughts about his master had risen in his mind over the past year, and he waited for the day when he could shed this suit and destroy the bastard and take his place as the rightful ruler of the galaxy. Then perhaps he could end all the pointless debates in the senate and crush the rebellion once and for all. There would finally be order and peace throughout the galaxy. He could _make _it so.

But the old man was acting strange, however, and it came as no surprise that the Emperor had probably caught on to him by now. His master would be expecting some huge elaborate plan, he always did, but that was not Vader's style. His master had kept him on such a short leash for so long, the old man didn't know his tactics when it came to planning. When out on military missions, Vader usually arranged big plots that tricked and manipulated events, just as his master would have suspected. But not for this plot. Oh no. It would be simple, and the Emperor would never see it coming.

But there was also the fear that his master was not suspicious about his plotting to overthrow him. Maybe Sidious caught on to the deal he'd made with the senator. That was a more horrifying thought. His master had lectured him on the dangers of the flesh, but it wasn't even that simple. He was willfully allowing the woman to pass information. He'd known that from the beginning that she was. What little she could have obtained, he knew she was passing it on. Why else would she be so desperate that she would sleep with him? It wasn't just from the mental stress.

Vader despised rebels, but they had their uses. His master had told him as much. So, when the time came, and Amidala's hope in the Rebel Alliance finally came through and launched some kind of attack, that's when Vader would strike. He would be ready. Even if there were Imperial losses, nothing the rebels could do could completely overthrow the Empire. Not with one little surprise victory. No, that was unrealistic. But one little surprise could cause momentary panic. One little surprise could cause men to forget about the dangers at home. But Vader would be ready for it. That's when Sidious would fall.

"You really don't like people, do you?"

The Sith turned to stare down at Senator Amidala. So, she tore herself away from all of the other sniveling ingrates that passed themselves off as politicians. Good. They were festering sores in the Empire. He was surprised, however, that she had willingly sought out his company. He would have thought she'd had enough.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning back to his inspection of the crowd.

He saw her frown out of the corner of his eye. "Nothing. Just to get away." She paused. "Your presence is a great deterrence for other people's attentions."

Curiosity got the better of him, and he looked down once more at the tiny woman. "I thought you _wanted _other people's attention. That's why we came up with a solution."

A blush found its way onto his cheeks, and Vader found his attention had sharpened. "Yes, well, there's not many people here that I know and _like_," she explained calmly. "Besides, I don't like having the Emperor keep track of who I talk to."

Vader crossed his arms. "He wouldn't bother," he said. "That's why _I'm _here."

"All the same," the senator said, tracing the lip of her wine glass with her finger in an absent-minded sort of fashion. Her brown eyes scanned the room, a frown on her lips. It occurred to him that she didn't want to be here anymore than he did.

So it was that they stood together at the edge of the party, neither one talking, just watching the others as they mingled and laughed. It was getting on in the evening, and more than one person had had more than enough to drink. The music had started up, and many couples were now going out on the dance floor for entertainment. Vader scowled under his mask. What a waste of time.

The senator, he noted however, was watching with an almost wistful expression. The wine was obviously getting to her. He was certain that she would never allow herself to look so pitiful otherwise, at least not around him. After a few minutes, she even started to nod her head back and forth with the music. Vader couldn't help but watch the way her neck moved, even as he tried to remain focused on the events around him.

"Good evening, Lord Vader."

The Sith turned and could have cursed when he saw Moff Fairfax coming towards them. "And Senator Amidala, what a delight."

While Vader didn't even acknowledge him, Amidala bowed her head slightly. "Moff Fairfax."

"And what have you two found to discuss and keep company with yourselves?" he asked in a disgustingly amiable manner.

There were very few Moffs that Vader liked, and Fairfax was not among them. The middle aged man was an insufferable kiss ass to the Emperor—as most of them were—and didn't try to hide his ambition. He was ruthlessly cunning in the political game and didn't bother to have regrets. Admirable though that was, Vader didn't trust him. Fairfax was smart enough not to cross him, but he certainly thought well of himself, even going as far as to believe he and Vader were on equal footing. That wasn't true.

"That is none of your concern," the Sith snapped, glaring at the shorter man. Height was always a bittersweet thing for him, but at the moment, he was delighted in the fact that he could make the older man look up to him and sense his fear. It was good for intimidation, but annoying when trying to remain inconspicuous at parties.

Fairfax was apparently intelligent enough to be afraid, but Senator Amidala did not seem all that impressed. Instead, she smiled slightly at the Moff, even though Vader knew she didn't like the man. "Just chatting," she contradicted the Sith. It infuriated him. "And what of yourself, Moff Fairfax? Enjoying the party?"

How _dare _that woman write him off like that? He was not her dog to be dismissed! Because of her bold words, Fairfax was relaxing and seemed to regard him with less fear. That would _not _do.

"Just making my rounds, saying hello to everyone," the Moff smiled happily. "Though I must confess I'd much rather be dancing."

How much had Senator Amidala had to drink? She was nodding along with the other man easily and honestly admitted, "So would I. But not many men are free."

The Moff's eyes lit up, and the senator still seemed completely unaware of what she'd just done. Predictably, however, Fairfax smiled charmingly at the woman, bowing low to her. "I would be honored to have this dance, Senator Amidala."

Finally she realized what she had done. She'd set herself up for this, and Vader could sense her panic. At last, he was enjoying this party at last. She turned pleading eyes up to him, as though expecting him to refused Fairfax's offer on her behalf. He could even sense that she didn't believe he would let her dance at all. How _wrong _she was.

"Well…I…I would hate to be rude towards Lord Vader by leaving him—"

"I do not require your presence, Senator." It was enjoyable to see the look of betrayal that flashed in her dark eyes. What had happened to them? Had she really lost all sense of sanity if she expected _him _to protect her? Clearly the woman was mad. He was _no _savior.

Not waiting for another refusal, Fairfax took the senator by the arm and led her out towards the dance floor. The amusement only lasted for a minute before Vader realized that perhaps he'd been too hasty. Fairfax was not wasting any time to become cozy towards the petite woman, and even though Amidala seemed extremely uncomfortable, it did nothing to sooth the sudden flair of jealousy he felt. Despite not liking her, Amidala was _his _and no other man should be able to touch her like that. To touch her _at all_.

He was so fixed on watching the source of his anger, that he hadn't noticed his master's approach until he stepped next to him. "Your thoughts are elsewhere, Lord Vader," Sidious said quietly. "What are you thinking of?"

"Why I agreed to let Senator Amidala indulge in pointless frivolity," he responded truthfully. His master didn't need to know the true sentiments behind why he was so upset.

"I was wondering the same thing myself," the Emperor turned sickly yellow eyes up towards him. "Your duty was the _break _her, Lord Vader."

"And she will be, my master," Vader replied quickly. He had to be careful about how he did this. He had no desire to be punished by his master. Not again. "She does not like Fairfax. She did not want to dance with _him_. It was amusing to see her angry."

The Emperor looked at him doubtfully, before nodding. "She has a very strong will. She will need more than being forced to dance with a man she doesn't like." He paused. "I want you to start invading her mind."

"Master?

Sidious was thoughtful a moment before he lowered his voice. "Slowly invade her mind. Perhaps she will break faster."

"I thought she had use to you in the future, Master?" Vader asked. "If I were to enter her mind, she would likely go insane."

The thought was strangely horrifying to the Sith. He didn't like the woman, but she had her own uses to _him_. He didn't want her to suddenly just crack and become a breathing vegetable. Vader only interrogated beings when it was clear they were going to be killed anyway and of no use. He was the last resort, the heavy hitter. Should he do this, he would likely harm her mind beyond repair. For whatever reason, he didn't like the thought of doing it, even beyond just wanting to keep his plan in action. Something deep within Vader realized that he didn't want to lose her, or at least her personality.

But Sidious seemed oblivious to such thoughts, which was good for Vader. Instead, his master was sneering up at him as if he were stupid. Nothing new, but the younger man couldn't wait to wipe that look off his master's face forever. Soon. Soon.

"I don't want you to rip her mind apart. I want you to slowly work your way in so she will be unable to detect you. Can you do this, Lord Vader, or must I start looking for another apprentice?"

Rage boiled just below the surface of the young Sith. All around him, people started to move farther away from him, feeling the cold hatred radiating off of him. He had to control himself enough so that things wouldn't start floating around and smashing into people. Even though that would have been amusing as much as satisfying. He didn't even know why he allowed himself to be goaded by his master like this anymore. Habit, he supposed.

It was not hard to get Vader riled up, but extremely difficult to get him to calm down again. Not much could assuage his temper, so not many beings lived to tell the tale once they'd crossed him. But just when he thought he'd lose himself and stab his master through the throat, his thoughts unexpectedly turned towards something…softer. His eye was caught by Senator Amidala with Fairfax, her long, navy dress twirling about her. For a moment, he saw nothing else except the woman who was the cause for this resent debate. But then he couldn't help notice how graceful she was, how beautiful, and remembering how lovely she without that navy dress too.

Taking a deep breath, Vader released it silently before turning his attention back towards his master. "It will be as you have said, Master," he replied respectfully.

Sidious's eyes narrowed, but he eventually nodded. "Very well then. I expect to hear back from you in several days' time with promising information."

Vader bowed his head respectfully before turning his attention back to Amidala. It could not be denied that she was lovely. There was something so graceful about her, so elegant. It was a pity that her mind would eventually be crushed by him, but perhaps satisfying as well. He was getting tired of her sass, but at the same time, she _was _interesting. She was the only person that would challenge him, save his master. But it had to be done. It would be harder now that his master was becoming suspicious, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He just hoped that he could hide his jealousy from his master, even though it was hard not to go over there and rip Fairfax's heart out through his throat.

When the dance was over, the senator quickly excused herself before all but running towards the opposite side of the room. She ended up with Bail Organa, who seemed stiff around her. Not surprising. He knew Vader was watching him as well. But still, the two talked and Vader was mildly amused to see the other man offer Amidala another drink. The woman took it quickly and drank it within seconds. What had Fairfax talked to her about?

The party continued to grow less and less interesting as far as Vader was concerned. The Emperor soon left him, and some of the guests became increasingly inebriated. No one else came near him, however, which was good. A success in his book. And when it was nearly twelve-thirty, he decided it was time to go.

Weaving his way through the still surprisingly crowded room, Vader followed the presence of Light to find the senator. She was sitting at a table slumped over, talking to Bail, who looked close to panic. When the other man saw the Sith, that panic doubled. "L-Lord Vader!" he stammered as he stood.

Senator Amidala, however, turned around in her seat to glare up at the Sith Lord. "Where the hell've you been?" she slurred. It took Vader a moment to realize she was drunk. She was _really _drunk. Not once since meeting the woman had he thought this was possible.

Organa quickly jumped up and moved around the other side of the table to help Amidala as she tried to stand. "I'm so sorry for her, my lord," the senator mumbled. "She must have had one too many—"

"I know how alcohol works, Senator Organa," Vader snapped. He still couldn't believe Amidala had done this to herself.

"Yes, well," Organa trailed off awkwardly. "Maybe I should just take her home—"

"_I _will take her home."

The older man paused, looking uncomfortable. "I—"

"I don' wanna go home," the short woman burst in, still leaning heavily on her friend. "I wanna go _home_."

That made no sense to Vader, so instead of debating with a drunkard, he grabbed her by the upper arm, pulling her away from Senator Organa. "We're leaving now," he stated flatly.

Of course her motor function was impaired and she tripped over herself until she fell into his chest. Both men stiffened for different reasons, while Amidala looked up with a grin on her face. She even giggled. "Whoops!" she laughed. "Didn't mean t' touch ya. I _know _how much ya hate feelings…_sometimes_." Did she just wink at him?

Any color in Organa's face drained away into nothing as his friend continued to laugh. Vader didn't find it amusing. At all. Especially with what she was implying. It wasn't really noticeable to anyone, but he'd rather not take that chance. Without another word, he pushed her back before grabbing her arm again and dragging her away. He had to get her out of here before she really said something they'd both regret.

But as she began to protest, _loudly_, Vader realized a new tactic would have to be implemented. They were drawing attention to themselves, and he didn't want that. "Senator," he growled so that no one could hear them. "Stop this foolishness and _walk_."

"I could if _you_ weren't _running_," she glared right back with unfocused anger, over emphasizing her words. "Besides, yer making me trip. A _real _gentleman would offer a lady his arm."

"I am not a gentle man, Senator," he hissed.

Infuriatingly enough, she was laughing again. "That, yer not," she smirked. "So maybe you go find one, an' I'll go home with him!"

Any good feelings he'd had towards the woman before evaporated. She was getting on his last nerve. And here he'd thought it'd be a shame to have to rip her mind apart. It was not a shame, but a delight. She really was like everyone else. Weak and stupid. She was certainly not what everyone had said she was.

It wasn't worth arguing, though. Drunkards tended not to listen to anyone or anything except what they wanted. She was obviously not in the mood to listen to anything he had to say. So, instead of arguing, he grabbed her hand and put it in his arm as he had seen his personal aid do. That seemed to confuse the woman, but more importantly, it shut her up. And so, lessening his stride, he walked with the inebriated senator stumbling beside him.

They finally made it to his speeder, and he was finding he regretting taking one of his sportier models to this instead of the standard Imperial speeder. It would be a terrible if his precious RGC-16 ended up with vomit all over it. Maybe he'd have to drive slower…just this once. It was either that or ruin his newest model. He hadn't even modified it to his exact specifications yet.

For a moment he feared she wouldn't be able to stand on her own without his support, let alone open her door on her own. Pathetic. But he didn't really want to lean over and peel her off the ground if she fell over. So, he leaned her carefully against the speeder and opened the door for her, all the while, she was humming something. It sounded old, and it was horribly out of tune. Gritting his teeth, Vader grabbed her arm. Once again, she fell into his chest, giggling, as she peered up into his masked face. Her eyes sparkled in the night light of Coruscant. She was smiling up at him, oddly earnest and trusting. Something stirred within his breast as he stared at her.

The spell that came over him didn't hold, however. He refused to let it. He felt suddenly panicked and ended up shoving her into the passenger seat. He slammed the door shut, not noticing that a bit of her dress had been closed in it. The senator started giggling again, but he was too angry and flustered to take notice.

Instead, he jumped into the driver seat. He was about to take off when he noticed that the senator wasn't buckled in. In her current state, she could likely fall out before he even got back to base. She was completely out of it. How much had she had to drink?

So, leaning over, he used the Force to grab the belt before fastening her securely in. As he tried to straighten up, the senator grabbed his hand. He tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly strong. He watched her stare at it for a long moment, her features becoming strangely serious. She studied it carefully before pulling at his glove. Instantly, he jerked his hand back before taking off, making sure to keep both hands on the steering.

As they drove, the senator leaned over the edge of the door, looking down at the traffic below. "Stop that!" Vader snapped, torn between looking at her and the traffic in front of him.

Amidala didn't move for a moment, and he began to fear that she'd passed out, before she sat up for a minute. "You're not fun," she pouted, before leaning back over.

The Emperor said that the senator had to be alive, so alive was how Vader was going to keep her. Reaching over, he grabbed her by her shoulder and roughly pushed her back into the seat. Maybe he should add extra safety straps when he modified the speeder? It would be easier to keep drunks in at least.

"You're so mean!" she whined as she slumped down in her seat. "Why are you so mean?"

"So I don't have to put up with idiots like you," he roared. "How could you have been stupid enough to get drunk?" His nerves were about shot. He wasn't cut out to babysit. "You staying with your enemy, but you would lower your guard like this?"

Big brown eyes suddenly looked at him with a sad, but penetrating gaze. They were suddenly very focused, and it unnerved the Sith more than he cared to admit. She suddenly didn't seem so inebriated. "You're not my enemy," she said seriously. "Are you? I thought we were friends…or something…"

Why, in all the galaxy, had the Force placed him with _this _woman? There was something aggravatingly moving about her. Her sad words nearly made him feel guilty. Nearly. But still, she raised a good question. What were they? They were lovers, yet neither loved the other. They weren't friends, but he had to admit, they weren't enemies in the conventional sense anymore. Maybe they were just as she said, maybe they were just _somethings_.

Although he had promised himself not to talk to drunks, she had a surprising effect on him. "No," he relented quietly. "Not enemies, Senator."

A beautiful smile light up the senators face and the Force sang in the Light. Vader turned away. "Don' call me that," she demanded suddenly. "We're not enemies so tha' must mean we're acquaintances, so we call each other by our first names, Darth."

There were so many things wrong with what she said he couldn't find it in himself to correct her. Instead, he decided to watch the traffic. Even this late at night it was still busy. Coruscant was the planet that never slept, after all. It certainly lived up to its reputation. But as he carefully drove with traffic—for once— he couldn't help but realize that this was the perfect time to invade the senator's mind. This had to be slow, and he had feared she would detect the initial connection, but not if she was drunk. She probably wouldn't remember any probing of her mind. He could take advantage of this moment. But after what they had just talked about he felt a little…

No. Darth Vader was a Sith Lord. He should not _feel _anything at all. Reaching out with his mind, he focused on the senator and latched on to her signature. She was staring up at the sky now, and didn't seem to notice him. Carefully, he linked a small part of his mind with hers. He could very likely get a lot of information out of her right now, but he didn't. He didn't know why he didn't want to, but he didn't. He blamed it on being tired.

"Why do you wear tha' mask?" the senator asked. _No_, _Padmé_, he thought sarcastically. They _were _acquaintances after all. "Can't you breathe?"

He didn't bother to answer.

"Are you some sort of evil alien from some outer region bent on conquerin' the galaxy?"

"Yes."

"And did you burn yourself or get injured real bad, so that's why you have the suit, or is it 'cause you can't breathe oxygen for long?"

"Yes."

"Are you really some bald, old ugly man?" she squinted at him, as though it would help her see through his mask.

"The ugliest," he replied casually.

He almost smirked when he heard her sign dramatically. "I knew it," she pouted. "But at least you're pretty good at the whole sex thing."

Vader's eyes grew wide in astonishment. It had been an unspoken rule between then that they _never _talk about what they did at night. _Never_. He was already cursing his master for making him link his mind with hers. "Senator," he began, intent on correcting _her _crudeness, but she interrupted him.

"Padmé!" she yelled, eyes angry. "My name's Padmé, Darth!"

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, pulling into the hanger. Thank the Force they were back! "Now get out!"

Of course she scowled at him, but it was largely ineffective. It took her several minutes to try and figure out how to open the door, but she would never know success, because Vader became so impatient he ended up having to open her door again and pull her out. Again, she stumbled, but Vader held her by her shoulders so she wouldn't fall into him. He didn't want that repeat again.

Padmé quickly linked her arm in his, and the mighty Sith Lord nearly sighed. People like this he either killed or Force choked into unconsciousness. He didn't think he could do that now. So instead, he allowed her to lean most of her weight on him as they went—though there really wasn't that much weight on her.

It was a long, torturous journey back to his wing, as the senator insisted on humming again. It was lucky that there was only skeleton shift, so only a few people saw the indignity of the Senator of Naboo and the unusual toleration of the Lord of the Sith. Vader made mental note to destroy recordings of this from security cams as well as threatening any of the personnel that would like to spread rumors. His reputation _had _to be maintained.

And so, eventually they made it to her room. Technically, he had let her off his leash and let her talk to friends almost all evening. Technically he had been scheduled to take her tonight. When he saw her stumble into the bed and flop over, however, he found he wasn't really in the mood. Lately he'd been wondering if sex was addictive, but he was relieved, at least, to know now that he wasn't attracted to _everything_ about her.

He was turning away when he heard the senator mumble something. Again, he nearly sighed, but turned back to the woman whose face was buried in her pillow. When he was standing over her, he scooped her head under his palm and flipped her face over so that she could at least breathe, or he thought he could through that tangled hair. "What?" he asked, his voice coming out surprisingly soft.

"Are you gunna leave me?" she mumbled.

"Yes," he said evenly. "It's time for sleep."

She groaned, but didn't bother to open her eyes. "Am I drunk?"

"Yes."

She was silent a moment, before she finally looked up at him with red, blood shot eyes. "Do you think we can be friends?"

Her voice was so weak, so quiet, it startled him. Something pulled at his chest, and for the first time in many years, a sigh finally escaped. "Perhaps, Senator."

"Padmé," she mumbled, turning away from him, her breathing eventually evening out, signifying sleep.

Vader watched her a moment, and before thinking better of it, he took off his glove, the one she'd been examining, and petted her thick hair, brushing it out of her face in hopes that she could breathe easier. "Perhaps, Padmé. Perhaps," he mumbled, before shoving his glove back on and stalking out of the room.

After sending 3PO to watch over her through the night, Vader sat in his hyperbaric chamber contemplating on what he should do about Senator Amidala. And hoping that there was some way he could survive all this mess.

* * *

**Author's Note: **…I have no idea how Padmé ended up drunk here. Oh well. It was fun for Vader at least.

Sorry for the late one this time, had a very bad day. Anywho, please review, if you'd all be so kind! I'd love to hear from you all!


	15. Chapter 15: Hangover

**Chapter Fifteen: Hangover**

Hell was real and Padmé was certain she'd found it. Bright, unforgiving light was being shown in her face, and her head felt like it was going to explode. Her mouth felt completely dry and her tongue felt like she'd eaten sand. There was a heavy layer of disgust that had settled over her, and she felt sticky and unclean. All in all, she felt like shit.

After counting to ten, she managed to open her eyes and lift her head, only to find that her hair was tangled in her face. Force, her head felt like it weighed a million tons! It was almost too much to keep it lifted, but she forced herself to keep it up. She could just see over the bed, and realized that the trash bin was right next to her bed, and there was plastic covering the floor all around her.

Kriff, she was hung over. Which meant that she'd been drinking last night, which meant… "Kriff," she muttered as she sat up and rushed to the 'fresher. She threw up for a good five minutes before she felt herself calm enough to get her head out of the toilet. When she did, she was startled to see 3PO and R2 next to her.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" the protocol droid bemoaned. "Here you are, my lady." He handed her a cup of water.

Padmé was all too grateful for it and carefully swigged it around in her mouth before spitting it out. The taste of vomit was not one of her favorite things, and it almost made her gag again, but she felt surprisingly good now that she'd gotten sick. Good enough, at least, to realize that she was in her nightgown, which meant…

"Kriff," she whimpered. Had she changed out of her dress from the previous night or had…had _Vader _done this? No, it couldn't have been him. He wasn't patient enough to deal with a drunk person. But how did she get into her nightgown?

She remembered all too clearly their deal. Even though it had been a Friday night, Vader had said he'd allow her to mingle with her friends and such, so she had to fulfill her end of the bargain. It had been upsetting, especially since they seemed to have engaged in their…relation far too often for her taste, but then, she wanted to appear like she was happy at the party. She'd drunk one glass of wine when she'd first got there, nursing it for about an hour, before she took another, not really sipping it all that much.

Since she was such a petite woman, she knew her limits, and decided not to indulge in much more. She'd already felt warm and relaxed when she'd gone to stand by Vader towards the middle of the evening, and she'd promised herself to stop. But then there was Fairfax, a man she greatly despised, and Vader had made her dance with him, and then Fairfax had been so crude and disgusting and…and…

And that's when she'd run to Bail, and decided that a few more drinks wouldn't kill her. She was without a doubt a kriffing idiot. Why in hell had she thought drinking would help solve her distress? She _knew _her limit, but she'd disregarded it, even when she'd been aware of the signs that she was slipping into inebriation. And why? Because that bastard Fairfax had been so lewd and started threatening her and…

But that wasn't an excuse for what she'd let herself do. Restraint was power, and she'd _never _allowed herself to become intoxicated at a public function before. Her image meant too much. But the stress of everything seemed to have caught up to her, and having her mind always full of Vader was enough to cause anyone turn to the bottle, right? She was only making excuses, of course, but everyone had to indulge in it sometimes.

She didn't remember anything past going to Bail. There were a few flashes of memories—or she _thought _they were memories—of Vader coming to her, of driving in the speeder, looking at the stars, but nothing else. She tried to work out what had happened, but couldn't. It was clear Vader had gotten her home, but what had he done to her when they got back?

Sex with the Dark Lord was fine when she was aware of it. It'd even stopped feeling like rape some time ago. But this? She was not at all comfortable with the idea of sleeping with him while drunk, and even worse, not remembering anything. What if he'd done something really terrible to her?

"My lady," 3PO interrupted her panic attack. "Here, take more of this."

The senator looked up and took the white pills that the droid offered and swallowed them down with a mouthful of water. "What was that?" she asked, her voice thick and scratchy.

"The medicine Artoo found for you last night," the droid explained. "Don't worry, it said you could take them every couple of hours." R2 beeped in confirmation.

"I took some last night?"

"Oh, yes, my lady," 3PO answered. "We gave them to you several times throughout the course of the night. Artoo said that this was supposed to help with the nausea and help to rehydrate your body."

Padmé looked from one droid to the other, before nodding. Her head did feel a lot better now, and since she'd gotten sick, she was starting to feel all right. It was obviously some sort of hangover medicine…but how or why R2 knew about it and had gotten it was beyond her. She was just thankful that she was feeling pretty okay, if still a little sick. It was probably a lot better than if she hadn't taken the medicine at all.

"Did I get sick last night?" she asked.

"Oh yes. Several times," 3PO said with pity in his voice. "The first time you threw up all down your dress!" Padmé winced at the thought. "Artoo had it sent to the laundry at once, and I took the liberty of changing you into your nightgown."

So, it had been the droids. A huge weight had been lifted off her chest at the announcement. But that didn't mean Vader couldn't have taken advantage of her. Biting her lip, Padmé decided that there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. Instead, she might as well try and get ready for the day. First thing was first. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced, standing up carefully.

"Certainly," 3PO nodded his head. "I'll go get something for you to change into."

"Please make sure it's something light," she called after him, before staring at R2 who had yet to leave. The droid whistled at her, and it sounded oddly accusing. It caused the senator to sigh. "You can yell at me after my shower. Now can you please leave?"

R2 was clearly not happy about being dismissed just yet, but turned to roll out. He beeped something back at her, to which 3PO exclaimed in indignation. "How rude! Artoo, you really ought to mind your manners!"

Padmé shut the door on their bickering, her head starting to throb again. Why did she have to have a hangover? Why did she have to drink so much last night?

She started the shower and waited a moment for it to warm up. Once it was ready, she quickly stripped and stepped into the spray of water, sighing. Her stomach was starting to churn again, but her head had decided to settle into a dull thumping, which she could tolerate. It had been years since she'd gotten drunk. The last and only other time had been after she'd turned eighteen. She'd cleared her schedule for anything the following day, taking a sort of mini-vacation, and had decided to stay up and experiment a bit. It was a rather stupid experiment, but she'd wondered what it felt like. She'd drank before, but she'd never been drunk.

Needless to say, after that, she'd decided she never needed to drink that much again. She'd been so sick the next morning she'd stayed in bed for the entire afternoon, only coming out that night. The experience had been so scarring, she couldn't touch alcohol for several weeks after. It had just been lucky that Dormé had been with her and taken care of her. Somehow, the other woman had handled her liquor better.

But now she'd broken her promise to herself and had gotten drunk. And for no real reason! She really was going crazy. What Vader must have thought of her! If she knew him, and she'd like to think she was getting to know him better than most, he'd probably been disgusted with her lack of self-control. He might have even found it amusing in some way or other that the great Senator Amidala had let herself go like this. How could she be so stupid?!

After grabbing her towel and drying herself off, she stepped out of the shower to find that 3PO had laid out everything that she would need. Sometimes the droid was a little over the top and worried too much, but he certainly knew how to take care of a person. He was almost motherly. Again, she had to wonder how such a droid came into the care of Lord Vader.

When she was dressed, she quickly brushed her teeth before she walked out of the 'fresher to go cool off and comb out her hair on the bed. She felt a lot more human now that she'd showered, but she still wasn't one hundred percent. It would probably be nighttime before she felt like herself again. Which reminded her, what time was it?

"Thirteen hundred?!" she exclaimed in shock when she looked at the clock. She'd slept the whole day away! That was it. She was never doing something so stupid like last night again. _Never_.

Groaning, she worked at her hair, wondering what sort of things could have happened while she was incapacitated. What sort of things could Vader have done while she was completely out of it? The thought made her angry and scared. Angry at herself and him for taking advantage of her, and afraid of what could have happened to her. She could have very nearly ended up dead.

"R2?" she called, her voice still sounding rough to her ears. "R2, did you hear me come in last night?"

The little droid chirped a positive sound, and 3PO translated. "He says he did, my lady."

Biting at her bottom lip, Padmé decided that even though she felt sick to think about it, she had to know. "Can you tell me what happened?"

The astromech began chirping and rocking back and forth before 3PO once more translated. "He says he recorded it because he wasn't sure what had happened to you at first."

Padmé smiled slightly. "Artoo, you're brilliant," she said sincerely. "Can you play it?"

The little droid rolled forward and began to play the holo. Padmé winced when she saw herself stumbling next to Lord Vader, her arm in his, but he was basically supporting all her weight. It was with the utmost embarrassment that the senator had to watch herself as she basically fell first into her bed face first. Vader's image stood over her a minute, before, surprisingly, he turned to leave. He hadn't touched her! But a noise that apparently emanated from her stopped him.

Once more, Vader stalked over to her, and from the angle, it was clear R2 had been on the opposite side of the room, so Padmé didn't see what happened too clearly, but she was pretty sure he moved her head. _"What?" _the image asked quietly, kneeling down beside the bed.

"_Are you gunna leave me?" _

"_Yes. It's time for sleep."_

Her image groaned. _"Am I drunk?" _

"_Yes."_

"_Do you think we can be friends?" _Padmé's jaw dropped at hearing her drunken self ask such a thing. What in the galaxy had she been thinking? How drunk had she really gotten?

If her question had surprised her, Vader's response floored her. After a brief hesitation, he answered, _"Perhaps, Senator."_

"_Padmé."_

There was another pause before he answered, _"Perhaps, Padmé. Perhaps."_

By this time, Padmé was shaking her head. What on Coruscant had she been talking about? She'd made Vader call her by her first name? Her first name was very special to her, something that not many people got to called her. Why had she made _Vader _call her that?

Her eyes remained fixed on the holo, however, and she saw the Sith hesitate over her, and she knew he was doing something, but couldn't tell from the angle. The image of her hair moved…had he touched it? And suddenly, the Dark Lord stood, looking as though he were pushing back down his glove, before he stormed out of the room. She had clearly passed out since then, but she wasn't concerned about anything else at the moment.

Darth Vader had been…_gentle_ with her. No, that couldn't be, could it? He was certainly not what anyone would call the caring type. Just the thought of it blew her mind. He'd helped her to her bed, he hadn't taken advantage of her, he'd stayed when she'd spoken to him, he'd…_touched _her hair without his glove, it looked like. What the Force was going on? This was not the Vader she knew and hated. It would have made sense for him to just come in, dump her off and leave. In fact, he'd almost done just that, but the fact that he'd stayed, for even just a minute…

The image of 3PO startled her as R2 was still playing the recording. _"My lady," _he came shuffling in. _"Lord Vader asked me to tend you…Oh dear!" _

And finally the recording stopped. He hadn't dumped her off, he'd sent someone probably better qualified than himself to tend her. What was she supposed to think of him now? He was certainly still the same monster that committed war crimes and destroyed peoples and devastated planets!...Yet he was gentle with her. He was lenient with her. He'd _healed _her. There was much more to the Sith than he would have anyone believe, Padmé knew that. But what was she supposed to think of her captor now?

She didn't have to wait long, because at that moment, her door burst open, and the Sith in question was standing just on the other side. The moment she saw him, Padmé knew he was mad. No, he wasn't just mad, he was _seething_. The room's temperature seemed to drop several degrees, and she could only stare up at him with conflicting emotions. How was she supposed to respond to this man that had been so tender with her?

"Come with me," he snapped, his voice so drastically different than the soft tones he'd used the night before. He didn't even wait for her to respond but spun around and walked out of sight.

Padmé was left momentarily speechless, before she found herself up and stumbling after him. She didn't even have on shoes, so she hoped they weren't going to walk around the entire base. Luckily, however, he'd only wished to take her to one of the conference rooms. It was the same room that he'd been in when she'd proposed that they become lovers. It didn't exactly bring about the best memories.

It was cold in the room, but Vader didn't seem to notice, even as Padmé wrapped her arms about herself. Instead, he sat down and pointed at a chair next to him without a word. Apprehensively, she did as she was bid, and sat next to him. It was much worse to be so close to him, as she could feel his anger more acutely than ever before.

But he didn't start lecturing her. Instead, he turned on the holo feed for the news. Padmé frowned in confusion before the reporter turned to a new story. _"In other news," _the anchorwoman smiled, _"There is officially a new celebrity couple out in the galaxy."_

Why in the galaxy was Vader making her watch this gossip? Surely he wasn't in to that! He hated people, why would he care who was dating who? She got her answer when a picture of herself and Vader flashed on the holo. She paled instantly.

"_Last night at a social gathering for Coruscants rich and powerful, Lord Darth Vader and Senator Amidala of Naboo were seen together throughout the evening." _The picture changed to one of them talking before the dancing had begun. _"Several sources claimed that the two had come to the party together, and were seen leaving together also." _Now there was a picture of her leaning on Vader's arm, smiling. She obviously had to be drunk there, but in the picture, it just looked like she was smiling, while Vader was escorting her out. _"Neither Lord Vader or the Senator have been available to confirm or deny their new relationship, but if you ask me, a holo is worth a thousand unsaid words," _the anchor smiled. _"And it looks to me that there may be an Empress for this Empire in the future."_

There were no words to describe the horror that Padmé felt at that moment. She turned wide eyes to Vader, but he didn't reply. Instead, he turned the channel and a well-known gossip show was now playing. _"—and Senator Amidala! Can you believe it?" _the woman on the screen exclaimed. _"Never once in a million years did any of us think that _any _woman would catch Lord Vader, but then, out of nowhere, Senator Amidala snags the most eligible bachelor in the galaxy! Did anyone see this coming? I admit _I _did. I always knew that—"_

Vader turned the channel. _"—other news, it seems that there is a new couple in Coruscant. Lord Darth Vader, the Emperor's heir to the throne, was seen last night at a social gathering escorting Senator Amidala of Naboo. There has not been any confirmation on if the two are an official couple or not, but those interviewed last evening seem to think that there's a good chance that there is something going on between the two."_

At this, Vader turned off the holo and turned his masked gaze towards her. She could feel his glare even though she couldn't see it. It burned. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" he asked, his voice quiet, but sharp and deadly.

"I…I don't…"

"I've spent half the morning trying to get this filth off the air!" he snarled, standing up, his chair nearly falling over backwards.

"I'm sorry—"

"No you're not!" he roared. "I've spent all morning going from station to station to _personally _end this, only to be called away by the Emperor himself! Do you have any idea how long it took me to explain this mess to him? To sooth his suspicion?"

"But we're not a coupl—"

"We're close enough, Senator, and you know it!"

Padmé froze, tears in her eyes at his yelling. He was right, and that's what made it worse. They weren't exactly a couple, but they were sleeping together. The Emperor had assigned Vader to watch out for her and spy, not have sex. But what would it matter? Vader could always just tell Palpatine that he was torturing her. He could very easily get away with this…Unless, for some reason, the Emperor didn't _want _Vader to touch her in any manner.

"I'm sorry," she said again, staring down at her lap, trying not to let the tears fall. Her head was pounding, and she still felt terrible. Being put on the holo did nothing for her at the moment. And to feel Vader's anger so acutely pointed at her, it was all beginning to be too much. It seemed that she just kept making that one mistake, one tiny misstep in one way or another, and her entire life was turned upside down. Why did this have to happen to her? Wasn't it someone else's turn for bad luck by now?

The air remained cold, but somehow Padmé knew Vader was trying to calm himself. This affected him just as much, if not more, after all. Vader was not one that made it on the news for anything less than a report of victory or for the praise of a battle. Darth Vader had just as much stock in his image as she did. Whoever had come up with these outrageous reports had probably put their life on the line for including the Dark Lord. She just hoped no one died because of her stupidity.

"Why did you drink last night?"

The sudden question took her by surprise and it took a moment for her to reply. "I don't know," she muttered.

"You had a reason," Vader hissed, leaning forward on the table getting closer to her. "You were fine before your dance, but you had two immediate after. What did Fairfax say to you?"

"Why do you even want to know?" she demanded, taking her anger at herself out on him. "You're the one that made me dance with him!"

"I did nothing!" he snarled. "You could have refused him!"

The frustration of the whole ordeal finally got the best of her, and Padmé stood up, glaring at the Sith. "No I couldn't!" she cried. "It would've been rude and I didn't have a good reason not to! You know _nothing _of social protocol!"

"Apparently you don't either if you allow yourself to get drunk at a party," Vader sneered.

"Only because Fairfax was being a nerfherder!"

"What did he say?"

"He kept telling me how beautiful I was and how much he wanted to bed me, all right?!" she cried, unable to stand it anymore. She already felt like crap, she didn't want to remember this right now. Vader remained silent. "He was just so creepy and lewd and…and…he kept watching me, even when I walked away. I ran to Bail because I thought another man would keep him away."

The respirator hissed between them for several moments before Vader finally spoke up. "Why didn't you return to me?" His voice was a lot gentler.

"Because the Emperor was with you," she sighed, suddenly furious with the old man. "I didn't want to have to talk to him."

Slowly, the aggressive posture that Vader had adopted relaxed until he was simply standing. He seemed to be thinking about something, and Padmé would have dearly liked to know what it was. "In the future," he began, "you will stay around me. If anyone makes unwanted advances towards you, you will find me directly."

"Won't that just exacerbate rumors that we're…a couple?" That word tasted foreign on her tongue.

"That cannot be helped now," the Sith said simply. "We will go about our lives as before. If the media harasses you, make no comment and inform me immediately. _I _will take care of them."

That didn't sound like a very good thing. "No one will die if I tell you, will they?"

Vader chose not to answer. "As for now," he continued, "I have work to do. Should anyone ask you at work about these rumors, do not answer them. CT-585 has been ordered to guard you more strictly should anyone come to harass you. He will now be stationed directly outside your office door to keep an eye on you at all times."

"I don't need a babysitter," Padmé argued.

"You didn't prove that to me last night," he snapped. "Now get out. I have run behind my schedule for the day while trying to sort out this mess."

Padmé turned to leave, before she stopped, remembering. "I'm sorry," she repeated softly. "I truly am… But thank you."

The Sith's masked face snapped up to stare at her. His head cocked ever so slightly to the right, as if confused. "For what?"

Did he really not understand? Or was he trying to make her admit to something? "For helping me last night." She felt suddenly shy and looked down at the floor. "For being patient and not taking advantage of me when I was vulnerable."

He stiffened in a way that Padmé suddenly realized meant he was uncomfortable. She didn't know why she could read him just a little bit better now, but she could. He was uncomfortable with gratitude, with emotions, with _feelings_. It was a known fact that Vader could come up with a battle strategy within seconds, but throw feelings at him and the man seemed completely unable to adapt. Truly Darth Vader was the strangest creature she'd ever met.

But to save face, the man turned away, sitting down and looking as though he were trying to act busy. "I had no desire to get vomited on," he growled.

Even though she was taken back at first, Padmé realized he wasn't good at accepting thanks or praise. He only knew how to criticize and be sarcastic and dry. In his own crude way, this was Vader speak for, 'don't mention it.' Though the senator suspected that he would've agreed with her version and want her to never speak of this again.

"All the same," she trailed off for a moment. "Will I…see you tonight?"

"Get out, Senator," he almost sounded tired.

Deciding not to push her luck, Padmé walked out of the conference room and made her way back to her room to lay down and rest for a while and hopefully get rid of her headache. As she lay down, she couldn't help but wonder, certainly not for the first time, what Darth Vader was.

**oOoOoOo**

When the Amidala had gone, Vader slumped forward in his seat and took several deep breaths, trying to reign in the pain. Before he'd been so angry he hadn't felt it much, but now it was catching up to him. He had to get back to his hyperbaric chamber to heal. He was actually more than a little surprised that he was still conscious. Funny how sustaining fury and stubbornness made a man.

Standing up slowly, Vader strode out of the room and towards his chamber like nothing had happened. He didn't want the senator to suddenly come out and realize he was sagging or supporting himself up against a wall. That would not do.

When he made it to his chambers, he made sure to keep walking at his brisk pace until he finally was able to collapse in his chair in the chamber. He sat still for a moment, just breathing, before he was able to take off his mask and helmet. Once that was done, he very carefully took off his cape and started to peel off his life support suit. He ought to call the medical droid, but he didn't want to. He felt terrible, and Force lightning was always worse due to his prosthetic arm and the respirator controls, but lucky for him, his master didn't want him dead. Yet.

After struggling for a few minutes, he eventually gave up when he only managed to get his top half free. It felt wonderful to be free of the blasted thing and he knew it was going to be hard to get back in again. It always was. He felt so trapped, it took all of his will not to just run back to the palace and challenge the Emperor right now. Patience, he was reminded yet again. Patience would win the day. He just had to be patient.

His master had tortured him for _disobedience. _Sidious had been worried by the news reports of his and Senator Amidala's apparent relationship. True, Vader _was _disobeying his master by his sexual encounters with the woman, but it was the principal of the thing. The Emperor really believed the tabloids over him? Really? Vader was nothing if not loyal. Practically his whole life was centered around the bastard, yet he was abused this way.

It had been difficult to assure his master that there was nothing going on between him and the senator. But when his master had eventually listened, the elder Sith was apparently pleased with the turn of events. It gave them both very good credit and popularity with the population around the galaxy. To see the Empire's lead enforcer who fought for the safety of the galaxy going out with the Empire's most outspoken senator who fought for the rights of beings everywhere looked good. Very good. It was looked like a major political merger, like making peace with the Old Republic. The Emperor had demanded Vader stop contradicting reports, but hadn't said Vader had to encourage them. Which he wouldn't.

But even after all that, after he'd killed a few reporters and the fool who had been stalking them and taking pictures last night, after making threats all morning, his master was angry with him not for any of that, but for the possibility that he might want to ensure real relations with the senator. Of course that was stupid…as far as the old Sith could tell. Vader had to, very awkwardly, assure his master that even if he'd wanted a physical relation, he couldn't because he was in the life support suit. The only thing Vader could figure out was that his master had actually forgotten that small bit of information and in his embarrassment took his anger out on his apprentice. Like always. That's when the Force lightning had come.

Closing his eyes, Vader decided that he needed to take a few days off. This whole mess with the senator was getting a little out of hand. He had to look like he was in a relationship with her while he wasn't, but secretly was. What the hell had happened to his life? One minute he's a powerful Sith Lord whose sole purpose in life was to dominate and destroy, the next, he was having to tiptoe around everything and play some political game. He hated it.

But a part of him wasn't so sure he'd change this even if he could. Being with Senator Amidala…with Padmé…well, it felt good. And not just the sex. Sure, he was angry with her more often than not, but there were times, especially when he was away from her, that he wished he could just stay with her. He thought about her constantly, and couldn't help the slight warmth at the thought of her. He'd forgotten what warmth felt like. It had been so long since he'd felt any pleasure and warm hands touching him, or the warmth of twin suns on his skin…

Sighing, the young man decided he should probably just rest for a while. It had been a long, terrible day and it was only fourteen hundred. Without realizing it, his mind stretched along the thin connection he had with the senator. He could feel her relaxed and realized she was sleeping. He could invader her mind, but he didn't want to. Not yet. Right now, he too would rest, wishing he could touch her soft hair again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Damn, broke my streak of an update every day. Sorry, but real life gave me a sucker punch to the throat the other day and put me all behind. Hope you all enjoyed. And please drop a review on the way out, if you don't mind. I love hearing from everyone! Thanks!


	16. Chapter 16: Allies

**Chapter Sixteen: Allies **

There were days when Obi-Wan really just wished he could be a little more Sith-like and damn the consequences of his actions. There were times he wished he could scream and yell and thrown a temper tantrum of tremendous proportions. But he couldn't do that. Jedi training was so ingrained into his brain that he couldn't bring himself to go against the calming technics that always seemed to kick in at the most inopportune times, always right when he wanted to just lose himself in frustration. It was a good thing, but exasperating as well.

Gazing around the filthy cantina that he found himself in this week, he tried to remain calm, even as two men were still fighting and knocking into everything, including Obi-Wan. How he would like to just pull them apart and slap them for being drunken fools, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't even pull them apart and help them settle their differences. He couldn't let anyone know he was a skill negotiator or they might catch on that he was a Jedi. Jedi, after all, were not the galaxies most favorite group at the moment.

Standing up when the fighting started to get more intense, Obi-Wan pushed his way through the crowd, away from the brawl and its spectators, to sit at the bar. He missed wearing his Jedi garb, and he wasn't sure he'd ever fully get used to the close fitting trouser or the simple white shirt he'd managed to obtain. He looked more like some sort of trader than a Jedi Knight, but then, that was the point, wasn't it? He even wore a blaster at his hip, his lightsaber hidden in his leather jacket. To the outside world, he was just another ordinary man.

Sitting at the bar, he ordered another glass of water. The bartender looked at him as though he were crazy, before filling the request. The former Jedi knew it looked strange to be drinking only water at a bar, but he'd never been able to consume alcohol. The Jedi had preached against it so fervently that even now, three years after their fall, and when he should be fitting in as completely as possible, he couldn't do it. He was sure other Jedi had done it, but he just couldn't. It wasn't him.

A busty old Zeltron sat at the other end of the bar and kept winking at him. Obi-Wan tried not to make eye contact, but between her red skin and blue hair, she kept drawing his attention from the corner of his eye. Blast his fantastic peripheral vision! The last thing he wanted was for her to make her way over here and shoot pheromones at him. He shivered just at the thought of it. Maybe this wasn't a good idea…

"Hey handsome."

Definitely not a good idea. "Oh, uh, hello," he gave a brief smile, not wanting her to think he was attracted or anything. Not to say she was ugly! She just looked to be about twenty-years older than him, and he was a Jedi, physical relations were right out with him, and there was the fact that he didn't know this woman, and…_And you're rambling to yourself. Good going, Kenobi, _Obi-Wan mentally berated himself.

The Zeltron came and leaned up next to him, smiling as prettily as she still could at him. It was clear she'd seen better days. "What's a good lookin' guy like you sittin' here all alone and with only a water?"

He had to think fast or this could potentially get out of control. And he certainly didn't want to let on that he had any sort of Force powers. "Oh, you know," he gave a nervous laugh. "A lot of guys come in here with money…"

Thank the Force that that seemed to do it! The woman's lip curled with disgust and she turned and left without another word. Women in these places only seemed interested in money, and since Obi-Wan really didn't have that much, he was safe. Well, at least they left him alone when they found out.

Sighing, he leaned forward on the bar, thinking. He'd tried to get into contract with Master Yoda and the other surviving Jedi weeks ago, but thus far he'd been unsuccessful. Not surprising. They were all deep in hiding, and communication on the worlds they'd chosen were not the best. But still, Obi-Wan wished he could talk to the masters still left about his dream. If only he had someone with him. Anyone! It was getting quiet lonely here by himself. He was so used to be around other Jedi that this lone-wolf lifestyle he'd been leading the past few years was wearing him down. He'd always had the other Jedi at the temple, or his master, or his apprentice…

Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the pain. Poor Kalin. If only she'd heard him. It had taken him hours to find her body while staying out of the troopers' sights. By the time he'd found her, she was almost unrecognizable with all of the blaster wounds and scraps from falling off the cliff side. So young to have lost her life. Only fifteen. Still Obi-Wan grieved for her, just as he grieved for all the Jedi who had fallen to Order 66 as well as to Darth Vader. Even now, he still could not understand how anyone could have done this. It just didn't make sense. It went against nature!

But it was in the past, and he had to do all that was in his power to help restore the Jedi Order if he could, or at least help bring down the Empire. Thus far in his searching of planets that Bail had sent to him, Obi-Wan had found very little. But he had to check out entire _planets_, so the going was slow. But he would do what it took to help. It was all he _could _do now.

He couldn't stand to be among so many other people and yet be so alone. Standing, the former Jedi paid his minimal tab, before walking out of the cantina. In the morning he would leave here and begin a search on Geonosis. A part of him never wanted to go back there again, but if Bail thought it might be worth investigating, then maybe it was. Maybe the Empire was using the old Separatist headquarters there? Had the Separatists left something valuable there? Only time would tell.

Back at his fighter on the outskirts of town, Obi-Wan decided to make camp and began settling down for the night. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he heard someone. Someone that he had not heard in ten years.

"_Obi-Wan?" _

Blue-gray eyes snapped open, and the Jedi Knight was searching the darkness wildly. "Master?" he called tentatively. No, no, this could not be. Qui-Gon Jinn had died ten years ago! His old master could not be here!

"_I am here, Obi-Wan_,_" _came the unmistakably soothing voice of the former Jedi Master.

The young man blinked his eyes several times, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. "This cannot be," he muttered to himself. "Master Qui-Gon _died_."

"_Yes, I died, Obi-Wan, but that doesn't mean that I am gone."_

Obi-Wan jumped at the words. "Wh-where are you, Master?" he called, standing up. "I can't see you… Am I going insane?"

The air around him seemed to warm up just the way it always had when Qui-Gon would smile. It caused a fierce ache and longing to fill Obi-Wan. _"No, you're not insane. Not yet, my young apprentice."_

"How is this possible?" the living Jedi asked, sitting down hard upon the ground. "You're supposed to be dead, Master. How is it that I can hear you?"

"_The Force is a very powerful thing, Padawan. Did I not always tell you to believe in the Living Force?" _

"Yes," the Knight was nodding his head, feeling awed and slightly dismayed at what was happening. He still wasn't exactly sure what _was _happening.

"_Don't you remember the Jedi Mantra? Death, yet the Force?"_

Obi-Wan frowned. "That's the old mantra," he said. "It was 'there is no death, there is the Force'."

Again, the air warmed, and he could image his master smiling at him. _"And yet the older mantra is the truer mantra." _The younger man's frown deepened. _"There _is_ death, Obi-Wan. I died. But there is still the Force, and there will always be the Force. The Force is capable of any and everything. The new mantra is more constricting, more limited. The elder ones knew what they were saying: Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force. Learn this, Obi-Wan."_

Immediately the Knight was nodding his head, as though he were just a padawan again. "Yes, Master. But Master… why did you come to me? I…I still don't understand all this."

"_You will in time, Padawan." _Qui-Gon reassured. _"I have learned much since my death and have struggled to find the path back to the world of the living so that I might help you and guide you." _

Wonder filled the Jedi Knight and he felt his emotions rising to the point where they almost threatened to overtake him. "All this time…I miss you, Master," he admitted with tears in his eyes. "I miss everyone. They were all… brutally slaughtered, and I feel so alone, that I can't—"

"_Not alone, Obi-Wan," _the warmth enveloped the young Jedi and for just a moment he knew peace. He'd been by himself so long with minimal contact, he'd almost forgotten what this felt like, this warm connection to the Force. The pureness. Everything had been shrouded in Darkness for so long.

"_I am with you, Padawan. I never _stopped _being with you. Just as the Jedi from all ages have never stopped being with you."_

This comfort felt so good. He'd been beating himself up for so long, feeling so guilty that he'd survived when others had not. It was a relief, and it made him feel so tired and old. "Is…is Kalin there too?"

"_Yes."_

"Can you tell her… tell her I'm so sorry," Obi-Wan broke down. "I let her down! I should have been able to protect her. I should have been able to protect _you_! I should have been able to do something, should have been able to stop the Sith from taking over—"

"_No, Obi-Wan," _Qui-Gon soothed. _"This was the will of the Force. The events that happened were foretold long ago. There was nothing you could have done to stop it. And as for Kalin, she knows. She knows and does not blame you. You did all you could. Just as you did by my side while I walked the earth with you."_

"Then is there any hope?" he cried, even as a tremendous weight felt as though it had been lifted from his chest at knowing neither his former master nor padawan blamed him. "If this was all predicted, is there any hope that this Darkness can be lifted?"

"_There is one. The Chosen One."_

The _Chosen One_? That was just some sort of myth…wasn't it? Obi-Wan had grown up with stories of the legendary being that would bring balance to the Force. But they had just been that. Stories. Stories that had always seemed so unrealistic to him that he'd just dismissed them as a cultural part of the Jedi Order. There had never been any evidence to support that there would be a Chosen One, never mind that he had entered into the world!

"But, Master," Obi-Wan began. "I don't understand. If the Chosen One is real, why didn't they stop all this from happening? Why didn't they destroy the Sith before all this destruction?"

The warmth around him seemed to take on a melancholy quality to it, and immediately Obi-Wan was upset that he'd saddened his master. _"Unfortunately, Obi-Wan, this is how it was meant to be. Passion drove events into destruction, but passion is what will drive events into balance once again."_

"I don't understand."

"_In time you will, Padawan. But until then, look for the Chosen One. He will need your help."_

Eagerly, Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course, Master! I will fight by his side and help him in his quest to restore balance to the galaxy!"

"_He will need much more than that, Obi-Wan," _Qui-Gon said seriously. _"He will need you to train him."_

All excitement that had been building up in the Knight was brutally knocked out of him at his master's words. "_Train _him? Me?! Master, I can't train the _Chosen One_! I'm not even a Jedi Master! I couldn't even see my first padawan to the trials. Wouldn't Master Yoda be so much better than me? He is the greatest of all the Jedi. He—"

"_Would be quite unable to guide the Chosen One," _the other stated firmly. _"The Chosen One will need someone young and flexible to train him. Someone that will have complete compassion. Someone who will teach him the _true _mantra of the Force, and guide him in his struggles." _Obi-Wan remained silent.

"_Destroying the Emperor will not be difficult. The challenge will be to illuminate Darth Vader. It is Vader who you will have to help him in fully defeating. He cannot do it alone."_

A chill ran through the Knight at the thought of the black monster that had been unleashed on the Jedi Temple. The same beast that had destroyed races and laid waste to planets. Darth Vader was an animal, one that would not go down easily. Even though it frightened him, Obi-Wan already knew that he would help the Chosen One in his mission to defeat the Dark Lord of the Sith. "I will, Master," he stated firmly. "I promise."

"_Be mindful of all that I have taught you," _Qui-Gon continued. _"Be mindful of the Living Force. Remember, not all is as it seems. Already there are those setting up Vader for failure."_

"I will remember, Master."

The warmth around Obi-Wan did not lessen, but he felt his master's presence fading away. _"I will be with you, Obi-Wan. Always."_

And with that, the young Jedi knew that his master was gone and would not be speaking to him again. But he wasn't gone. None of his friends were really gone, even if they were. He suddenly realized that Qui-Gon had been right. There _was _chaos, yet harmony if one looked for it. There might be death, yet through the Force, there was still life. The mantras he had learned as a youngling were so detached, so unrealistic that it was a wonder he hadn't realized this before. The old mantras at least took into account that bad or negative things happened, but also realized that there was still good to be found, hope in an otherwise bleak situation.

Maybe he could do this. Maybe his master had been right and he was supposed to help the Chosen One. Maybe that's why the Force was ever so slightly shifting? Was the Chosen One beginning to realize his power and stepping forward in attempt to defeat the Sith? The Force sang in a positive manner, and it gave Obi-Wan hope. A hope that he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Laying back down on his sleeping roll, the young man smiled up at the stars, still surrounded with the hope and warmth of peace that his master had given him. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe things would get better.

He just wondered when the Chosen One would appear, and who he was.

**oOoOoOo**

Darth Vader knew that Senator Amidala was nervous about going back to work that Monday, but he was also knew he didn't really care. This was her own fault, let her stew in the knowledge that this dread was because of her. He wasn't nervous for the day, he'd already faced the Emperor, but he was becoming extremely angry. Just the thought of his inferiors sharing looks, some idiots perhaps even asking him about rumors was enough to send him in a simpering rage. He made mental note that the next social gathering that he was sure they would be _obliged _to attend, to ban the senator from drinking.

Even before they landed on the pad at the senate, Vader could already see that there was a congregation of people waiting for them. Damn those news reporters! Where they really so stupid? He'd killed several people yesterday, but they _still _insisted on badgering him? Idiots. All of them.

When he set down the speeder, he got out and went around the other side to help out the senator when he realized she had no intention of getting out. He ignored the reporters as they shouted out questions or other things to gain his attention. When he opened senator's door, he stared down at her. Brown eyes were silently pleading up at him. Once more she was beseeching him to help her, to save her from all this. Once more he couldn't understand why she would turn to him for some sort of hero. It defied logic, it made him feel…uncomfortable.

Not wanting to wait for her to screw up her courage, Vader grabbed her by the wrist and helped her out, making sure to block everyone else's view, lest there be rumors of an abusive relationship. That would be _all _he needed. His master would be most displeased.

When she was finally standing on her own feet, _finally _the courageous Senator Amidala was back. Her expressive face was gone and her mask of indifference and regal was back in place. Vader was finding he hated that expression. He liked it better when she was angry or when they were together in a more intimate manner. But he couldn't think of that right now. Right now, he had to concentrate on the moment.

"Senator Amidala! Lord Vader!" several reporters were calling, pushing their recording droids forward. "A moment of your time?"

Neither responded, even as CT-585 emerged from the speeder. They couldn't move when they turned fully around, because the reporters had formed a barrier around them. What little restraint Vader had, was quickly becoming frayed. They kept asking so many questions, all of them personal and intrusive, at last, his temper got the better of him, despite what his master had said.

Almost instantly, the Force responded to his feelings, and the droids recording were all suddenly crushed or simply blew up. Next to him, the senator jumped while the reporters screamed. Not wasting any time, Vader strode away, with the senator in tow. Behind them, the trooper raised his blaster at the fretting reporters, who were torn between wanting to follow their story and running away for fear of the Sith Lord. They were all so stupid. Smart people would have run by now.

When they made it inside, they small group marched to the Naboo suite and didn't pause, even as they received looks and glares from others in the building. Next to him, Amidala was uneasy with the attention. She didn't show it on her face, but he could sense that she was. The link he'd formed with her mind clearly betrayed her to him. He didn't have to wonder at her regret for the other evening, but he also knew it wouldn't help them. She should let go of the regret, as it served no purpose. But then, even he knew that it was better said than done.

When they made it to the suite, Vader paused and stopped the trooper as well. The senator looked back, confused, but Vader pointer for her to go into the office. She frowned at him, before thankfully doing as he requested. When she was gone, the Sith turned his full attention to the other man.

"I want you to stay with the senator at all times today," he stated. "At lunch, do not leave her side as you have been lately. She is _not _to be pestered with mindless questions."

"Yes, Sir!" the trooper straightened up in attention, baring his blaster up straight.

"Should anyone harass her, you have my permission to get rid of them however you see fit. Shooting is permitted, but only under the most extreme circumstances. It would be of no great loss, however, if death were to occur."

"Yes, Sir!"

Vader paused a moment, not liking having to leave. The situation with the senator was still difficult, but he had work he had to see to, and he couldn't afford to put it off anymore. He was so far behind, and the Empire wasn't going to run itself. And so, without another word, he walked away. He just hoped that the crazy girl wouldn't get into any more trouble. She had a knack for that sort of thing.

**oOoOoOo**

By the time lunch rolled around, Padmé wasn't sure she wanted to leave her office. She'd worked diligently all morning, but it was hard when even her staff was looking at her strangely, some of them like she'd deceived them. Of course this looked bad. Very bad. Her only hope was that the Alliance wouldn't think she'd betrayed them again, since Bail knew she'd really been drunk.

But when the clock struck noon, Cory came into her office, blaster in hand. "Lunch time, Senator," he stated simply.

Sighing, Padmé knew she had to go. This wasn't just a break for her, it was for him as well. She didn't want him to have to go hungry just because she wanted to hide away in her office. That wasn't the sort of person she was anyway. Padmé Naberrie Amidala didn't run from her problems…at least for long. It was time to go.

Standing up, she made her way around her desk and out the door. The stares she would receive would be terrible, but then, she had endured worse. She just hoped that no one would point and whisper as they had when they'd found out about Cotrilla…though no one knew that she and Vader were sleeping together. As far as anyone else knew, she and Vader were only recently a couple and recent couples didn't engage in _that_.

The long walk to the cafeteria was silent, and the moment they entered the room, everyone stopped talking almost as one. Every eye was suddenly on Padmé and she found her face heating up with embarrassment. But she would not let them get the better of her. No, she held her head high as she walked in and through the line, Cory not leaving her side for a moment. When they finally took their seat, she couldn't help but feel relieved. It was like she had actually accomplished something.

When she was about to start eating, she noticed Cory still standing at attention over her. His blaster was actually trained on people who came too close. "Uh…Cory, why aren't you sitting and eating with me?"

The trooper didn't answer a moment. "Lord Vader gave me specific orders, Senator. I must watch you closely."

"You can still sit down and eat lunch while doing it," she said with a small smile. "Sit down with me."

Cory hesitated. "Lord Vader—"

"Sit down," she ordered.

It took only a few seconds before finally, the Storm Trooper did as he was bid. He sat ridged in his seat. Still unsatisfied, wanting her friend back so she could ignore the stares and whispers direct at her, she tore her sandwich in half and held out one piece towards him. After a pause, the trooper finally took off his helmet and set it aside before taking the offering.

"Thanks," he said, smiling before he took a bite. "I didn't know senators would share their food with troopers?" he raised an eyebrow playfully, once again morphing into someone that Padmé could actually like instead of the cold mechanical instrument he was with the helmet… Much like a certain Dark Lord she could think of.

"Please," she rolled her eyes, ignoring the fact that he chewed with his mouth full. "You ought to know me better by now."

"I thought I did," he nodded. "But that was before I heard about you dating Lord Vader." He grinned.

Padmé tried the stop the sour expression that came to her features at the mention of the Sith. "You don't honestly believe all that crap, do you?" she asked, disappointed that even the diehard Imperials were getting into this. This was obviously worse than she'd previously thought. Which was very bad.

"I dunno," Cory shrugged a shoulder, looking down at her chips thoughtfully. She pushed her tray in the middle of the table and he helped himself. "Those pictures of the two of you looked pretty real to me."

Damn whoever had taken those stupid holos! "It was just a party," she said. "I had wine. That's it. We're not a couple."

Cory nodded in understanding, but his face betrayed his disappointment. It surprised Padmé. "What, you wanted us to be a couple?" she asked, shocked.

"I'm not saying anything," the trooper defended, looking at her drink, which she handed over. "I just thought it wouldn't be such a bad thing if you were, is all." He began slurping up her juice.

"How in the galaxy would it not 'be such a bad thing'?" she demanded. "We're two totally different people. You know that."

Again, the trooper shrugged a shoulder. "Not so different." She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. He smirked, but went on. "You both are good to troopers and treat us like people. That's more than anyone else has done for us."

"So what, we'd just be some sort of celebrity couple that could talk to troopers?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but it'd also be nice for when Lord Vader becomes Emperor." Now he made a grab for the cake, tearing a piece off for himself. "It'd be nice to know that us troopers would get taken care of and have an Emperor and Empress that cared about everyone. Even us clones."

Just hearing others talking about her being some sort of Empress chilled Padmé to the bone. It went against everything she believed it. How could she ever be an Empress to an Empire that oppressed and enslaved others? She believed in democracy! In a Republic! Not some sort of dictatorship. And the thought of being married to such a cold, vicious killer…it was like some sort of nightmare.

"While I see your point," she said as gently as possible, "I'm not Empress material."

Now it was Cory's turn to look at her skeptically, as he leaned sideways on one elbow, staring over at her. "Really? You think that? You were queen of an entire planet when you were a kid," he replied dryly. "I think that qualifies you to be an Empress, more than anyone else."

"It's not that simple," she shook her head, trying to deny that there was anything going on between her and Vader. She truly wished there wasn't so she didn't feel so trapped. "And besides, this is all moot anyway since we're not a couple and I don't intend to be."

After a moment, Cory finally backed down, nodding as he handed her back her drink. Looking down, she realized that he'd eaten half of everything. That was fine, though. She wasn't feeling particularly hungry anyway. What Cory had said to her made her feel a little sick even. Was this what everyone else thought too? Where they all expecting her to marry Vader and be some sort of Empress?

"So what is with you and Lord Vader anyway?" the trooper asked, unable to keep silent on the subject.

"He's just my guardian because of the rebels, you know that," she sighed. "He just went with me to the party and took my home. Same as always."

"Then what's with all those pictures of you smiling at him all dreamy-like, huh?" Cory goaded.

Padmé was sure her eye was twitching by now. "You're too nosey for your own good, Cory," she growled, pointing a vicious finger at him.

Unfortunately, her attempt to intimidate him failed as he started laughing. It did nothing for Padmé's mood. When he'd settled down, she raised an expected eyebrow at him, crossing her arms over her chest again. It caused the trooper to chuckle again. "Sorry, Lady Vader," he teased. Her scowl turned black. "Didn't mean to upset you, but…well," he gestured to her. "You certainly picked up Lord Vader's mannerisms."

Realizing what she'd done, Padmé quickly dropped her arms and stared at the trooper with wide eyes. By the Force, when the hell had she started to mimic Vader? The thought was disturbing. She didn't want to be anything like him! But then, he did have a few not-so-bad qualities to him, if she could admit it.

"You're a jerk," she pouted, shaking her head and realizing that she'd lost.

Cory smirked at her, before reaching for his helmet. "Heard that one before," he smirked. "Comes with the job. But I'll still get invited to the wedding, right?"

"Of course," she replied drily. "You and all the other troopers."

To Padmé's surprise, Cory winked at her before shoving the helmet back on his head. Shaking her head, she took another bite of her sandwich before deciding she really didn't feel like eating. Her appetite had been off since getting so sick after drinking, so she might as well get out of here so that no one else gave her those judging looks. Not that she couldn't handle them, she just didn't want to endure it if she didn't have to.

And so, once again, she and Cory were no longer friends that could tease each other, but just a senator and a Storm Trooper. It was sad in a way, but Padmé was glad she had Cory as a sort of ally. It made her feel a little better when she was here in the den of jackals that were waiting for her to fall. And more importantly, he gave her an excuse to criticize Vader and remind her what she had to fight against. When it was just her, in her own mind, she was ashamed to admit that there were moments, she forgot.

* * *

**Author's Note: **How I wish I had a Storm Trooper B.F.F. Or the ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn come talk to me. Alas, Padmé and Obi-Wan get all the luck.

Thanks again for all the reviews I've received! It really means a lot to me! So please leave me one on your way out. Thanks!


	17. Chapter 17: Realizations

**Chapter Seventeen: Realizations**

There was something horribly wrong, Padmé just knew it. It had been days since the fateful party, but Vader had not come to her again since taking her to the conference room to yell at her. Not once had he come to collect his due as stated in their bargain. Granted, she'd been a little relieved since they'd been going at it like mynock in mating season, and she was glad for the break. She'd actually been getting soar from all of their amorous activities. But still. This wasn't like Vader to not take what was owed…was it?

What was even more unnerving was the fact that he'd continue to let her have her lunches free of spying. Granted, the first day back she hadn't tried anything since everyone was staring at her like she'd died and come back, and had eaten lunch with Cory to be on the safe side. But that night she'd waited for Vader, but he hadn't come. The next day she'd experimented and told Cory that before she went to lunch she had to talk to Jar Jar in private. The trooper hadn't disobeyed her, and went to stand by the door, giving her privacy like he normally did. The following night, the same thing. Vader had been a no show.

It was starting to scare her out a little. What was wrong with Vader? Had he somehow caught on to her and no longer felt the need to monitor her so closely? Or was he really still that mad at her about what had happened? He hadn't spoken to her much since berating her in the conference room, but he hadn't _seemed _particularly mad. At least not at her. There was something strange going on, and she'd dearly like to know what it was.

The end of the day was rolling around, and soon the Dark Lord would be here to retrieve her. She hoped there wouldn't be any reporters waiting for them today. The numbers had become increasingly smaller the longer this all played out, and Padmé had been horrified when the producer of one news station was announced dead 'from natural causes' that Monday night, at the old, old age of thirty-six. Yes, yes, it was natural to die from a Vader inflicted injury after you made him angry. Perfectly natural.

People were dying and it was all because she'd been stupid and Vader was put in this strange mood because of her. There were moments when he seemed almost…in pain. Well, not that she could tell, but she just had this feeling that he wasn't feeling the best and was taking his hurt out on everyone else. It was like that old children's story about the ronk with the thorn in its paw, and it roared and roared until someone could pull it out. Only Vader didn't just roar, he bit.

But this couldn't be, could it? Lord Vader was practically invincible! He had destroyed all of the Jedi that were at the Jedi Temple and not received injury, or at least major ones that anyone knew of. He waged war on planets and put down rebellions and never seemed to come home with a single scratch. But there was something in the way he held himself the last few days, the way his stride was not as long as it used to be… Who or what _could _hurt Vader?

When the doors opened, Padmé was momentarily startled, before she caught sight of the Sith in her doorway. Immediately, she began shutting down her computer and putting away the pads she'd been working on. She knew how impatient the Sith was, and she didn't want to push him.

Today, Vader seemed rather neutral. She didn't get the sense that he was hurting anymore. It was a relief. A part of her had felt rather guilty that he'd been able to heal her when she couldn't return the favor. If he had really been hurt, why hadn't he healed himself? Or didn't it work that way? Why was this man so confusing?

When she made it to his side, he said nothing and turned to leave. As they were walking out of her office, suddenly a young man was before them, hindering their progress to the door. Instantly, Padmé felt Vader's mood darken, and she knew she was going to have to intervene. She couldn't let anyone else die because she'd gotten drunk.

"Lord Vader, Senator Amidala," the man smiled amiably. Again, Vader mood shifted downwards. "Might I just have a moment of your time?"

"No," the Sith growled, before holding up his hand. The reporter flinched, and even whimpered when he was pushed aside with the Force, but Vader didn't wait for him to recover and began walking towards the door again. Padmé followed hoping that the other would get the point and stay away. Really, how stupid were some people? Did they really not realize how dangerous Vader was?

Unfortunately, being spared by a Sith Lord was not as awe-inspiring as it should have been, because the reporter soon ran to catch up with them. "Please!" he called. "Just a few minutes of your time. That's all I'm asking." He began digging in his coat pocket.

The Sith did not reply, though Padmé saw him clench his fists. That wasn't a good sign. "Please let us be," she said, not bothering to look at him, lest he think she was caving.

"I just need a minute!"

This time, the senator didn't reply. She was used to such nosey reporters from when she'd been queen. Although back then, there were usually more that swarmed her all the time. Even though this one was annoying, Vader was pretty good deterrent. Only the most darning—or brainless— ran after him. This one, Padmé was convinced, fell into the brainless category. Could he really not feel how furious Vader was? Could he really not sense the darkness that had fallen over _everything_?

They had almost made it to the door, when they saw a few other senators talking with each other. They hadn't noticed the Sith yet or they would have run for their lives by now. Senators understood that they were not at all liked by Lord Vader, and usually kept out of his way. Too bad these senator were about to have a confrontation with the infamous Sith Lord as they were currently blocking the exit.

When the other senators realized Vader was coming, they tried to move away, but the reporter saw his chance and reached out, grabbing Padmé by her arm. Not expecting it, she'd kept walking and with his rough, tight grip, her arm was pulled. At the unexpected pain, Padmé cried out, eyes wide as she saw him pulling something out of his coat pocket.

What happened next was so fast, Padmé wasn't exactly sure what had occurred until she saw an arm lying on the floor. Someone screamed, someone else was yelling, but Padmé could only star down in shock at the limb that had not been there a moment before. She began to panic, and she looked up in shock to see the reporter holding a stub where his arm had been before, on his knees screaming in pain, even as someone else was yelling and another person was running towards one of the offices.

Confused, ill, in a daze, Padmé turned her eyes upon the man in black next to her, her mouth and eyes wide open to show her shock. Causally, Vader was standing up from his defensive posture and hooking his lightsaber back on his belt. He'd done it. He'd really done it. She'd known who this man was, knew his reputation for impatience and cruelty, she'd even known that he was the reason that the one producer at the news station had died, yet to see him in action, right before her eyes…

A violent shiver ran through the young woman as the full implications of what had happened and who this man was beside her hit her. It really felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She'd known before, but now she'd seen it, it was truly confirmed: she was sleeping with a monster.

"What have you done?" she whispered in horror, pale and unable to completely swallow her fear.

Cory was running in from the platform area, blaster drawn and pointing it at anyone who was too near either her or Vader. He hadn't followed them out of her office, and somehow, in the back of her mind, Padmé realized Vader must have sent him ahead to clear away any reporters. Unfortunately, her friend had missed one.

Vader didn't answer her, however, and instead took a step forward so that he was nearly pressed up against her. She shuddered violently, and tried to step back, but he was too fast. Carefully, he grabbed her hand, the one that the reporter had, and pushed down her sleeve. "Don't touch me!" she cried, trying to get away.

But Vader wouldn't let her. He moved his other hand around her back so that she couldn't step away, all the while keeping his gentle grip on her hand. He seemed to be looking at her, inspecting her. There was a red ring around her wrist from where the reporter had grabbed her, but no harm done. She'd been more surprised than anything, yet he'd suffered because of it. She felt so sick. Yet another person suffered because of her mistakes.

Soon, however, the Sith seemed satisfied and let her go. Padmé stumbled backwards, away from him, wanting nothing more than to run away from him, to flee the darkness and the cold. Tears stood out in her eyes as once again confusion wrapped itself around her mind. Was she going into shock?

On the ground, a senator was trying to keep the young man calm, all the while with Cory training his blaster on the injured man and anyone new that came to the group. Vader went and stood over his victim, crossing his arms over his chest. He radiated anger and power. This man was invincible. "Do _not _touch Senator Amidala."

The young man groaned, sobbing, as he looked away, trying to scramble away from the Sith. It was a pathetic sight and it made Padmé's heart bleed in sympathy and guilt. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, trying to get closer to the young man.

She didn't make it far, as a heavy, black glove came to rest on her shoulder and pulled her back. She tried to fight it, but it was hopeless. Vader was three times, if not more, stronger than her. If he wanted to trap her and keep her from moving, he could do it.

By this time, medical droids and the senate doctor were rushing to the scene, just as more delegates and senators had come to investigate what had happened. Padmé was still shaking, but Vader was not going to waste any more time. "Trooper," the voice of the Sith boomed over the crowd, causing everyone to stop what they were doing immediately.

"Sir!" Cory replied instantly, still on full alert, keeping himself between the others and his commander and his charge.

"Take this man to the base for questioning."

"Yes, Sir!"

"What?" Padmé cried in shock.

"L-L-Lord Vader," the doctor spoke up. "This man needs m-medical attention."

"Patch him up for his ride to the Military Base," Vader snapped. "He will be taken care of further there."

"You can't do this!" Padmé shook her head. "You—"

Vader didn't reply, but pushed her towards the door, even as Cory stayed behind blaster still aimed at the moaning man on the floor. The senator tried to look back, but a strange energy was pushing her forward and she couldn't stop or do anything but walk onward. He was corralling her with the Force. Knowing this did nothing except serve to make her all the more furious. By the time they were in the speeder, she couldn't take it anymore.

"You monster!" she screamed. "How could you do that?!"

Screaming didn't affect the Sith in the slightest. Just as calmly as ever, he lifted the speeder off the ground and they were flying back to the base. His ignoring her only made her more livid. How could anyone be like him?

"Don't you care that you permanently maimed that young man?" she demanded. "He'll have to live the rest of his life without that arm!"

At last, she could feel Vader's mood shift into anger once more. "Younger men than he have lost limbs and survived."

"That's not the point!" she cried, so confused and angry and _hurt_. How could he have done this? "He didn't do anything wrong!"

"He touched you," the Sith snapped. "He hurt you."

"So?" Why did he always have to confuse her like this? She didn't know how to take that statement or his reaction to it. "He just grabbed me. It only hurt for a second."

"That was a second too long."

"Yeah, well now he's going to be hurting for the rest of his _life_!" Her stomach lurched at the thought, and she was once again filled with guilt. "He was just a reporter."

"He was a rebel spy."

Silence fell over them as Vader weaved in and out of traffic. Of all the things he could have said, that was among the last she would have guessed. A rebel? In the senate? Sure, she knew of senators that were rebels, Bail and Mon coming to mind, but they knew better than to bring anyone else into this. And to be disgusted as a reporter? What were they thinking? And with Vader right there?

No, no this didn't make any sense. Why on Coruscant would they have an operative in the senate like that? Why would they even get within a meter of the Dark Lord? That was incredibly thoughtless. Now not only did that rebel lose a limb, but he was now going to be tortured for information. This man couldn't be a rebel. It just didn't make sense. Maybe he'd been from some off-branch rebellion radical group that had acted on their own with some sort of crazy plan? It couldn't have been planned by the Rebel Alliance. She hoped no one in charge was that dimwitted.

Finding her voice again, Padmé stared at Vader incredulously. "A rebel spy?"

"He was reaching for his blaster." Brown eyes once more widened in surprise. "He was going to kill you."

"Wh-what?" she asked, taken back. "Why?"

"Because you are with me," Vader voice was surprisingly quiet. "To rebels, you now look like a traitor."

By now they had landed in the hanger bay, but Padmé hadn't really noticed. She sat in shock, her mind thinking of everything at once. "But…But that doesn't make sense. Why would he try to kill me with you there?"

"A suicide mission, no doubt."

"But I haven't…I mean…H-how do you even know?" she demanded. "You're making this up!"

"I can read minds, Senator," the Sith snapped. "His emotions were wild enough that I picked up on his intent before he could act."

Padmé wanted to deny him, wanted to call him a liar, but knew she couldn't. If what he had said was true, he had saved her life. She wasn't sure how to feel about this. Her emotions were completely out of whack and it was making her head spin. She began shaking again as it all began to sink in. She had almost died today, died by a group that she had thought of as allies and friends. Her enemy, a man she hated and fought against, had saved her life. Everything was backwards now. What was she supposed to think?

Was this true? Vader could be lying to her. Sith were known to do that. But thus far she hadn't caught him if he was. He'd been mean to her, he'd yelled at her, scared her, but he'd never lost his temper to the extent where he'd hurt her severely. He'd choked her the first day, but since then, he hadn't harmed her. There were times when he was even kind. She'd thought that his list of geniality would end with healing her and putting up with her drunk. It had never occurred to her that she might have to add saving her life.

What was the universe coming to? There had to be another reason for saving her life. The Emperor wanted her alive. Yes, that was it! But if that was all there was to it, why had he insisted on checking her wrist where the reporter had grabbed her? That almost suggested that he had been _concerned_. But why? She didn't understand!

It was with a start that Padmé realized Vader was helping her up out of her seat. It wasn't the harsh pulling she was used to, but rather a careful lifting of her to her feet. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to act this way with her. He was supposed to remain cold and mean. This…this wasn't right. He was beginning to be too nice, too…_alive_.

When she was out of her seat, the Sith hastily removed his hands from her, and turned towards the ramp. She wasn't the only one uncomfortable here. Was it possible that Vader hadn't even realized what he was doing? It didn't seem likely, but yet, many things he did recently didn't.

Yet again it was another silent trek to Vader's wing, neither the Sith nor the senator comfortable with speaking. Lieutenant Pilor ran up to them the moment he saw them, and began going over reports that had to be done regarding the recent arrest of the reporter. Arlo kept giving Padmé pitying glances, but she tried to ignore it. She had too much on her mind than to worry about someone feeling sorry for her.

Normally she would have tried to listen in whenever Vader talked business with his P.A. but she didn't feel like it at the moment. She was still too stunned with the revelation that she'd almost been killed and her contradicting feelings towards the Dark Lord. It was amazing how much had changed in only several months. So much, but she was afraid of what that meant.

When he dropped her off at her room, she couldn't bear to look at him, and he apparently didn't mind as he simply turned and left. Once he was gone, Padmé went and sat down on her bed, wondering what the galaxy was coming to.

**oOoOoOo**

By that night, news of what had happened at the senate was all over the holo. Apparently Vader had gotten the story out before anyone could assume he'd attacked a reporter for no reason…though it wasn't as if he hadn't before. But every new station was a buzz with showing pictures apparently from the security cams around the senate, of the young man grabbing her, and then of her horrified expression.

"_It was with quick reaction that Lord Vader assessed the situation and stopped the rebel from attacking Senator Amidala. After the arrest, the rebel was found to be with a blaster and a cyanide capsule. The man was under arrest, however, and searched before he could take it and is now being held for questioning."_

Padmé shivered. Vader hadn't been lying. That man had really been there to kill her. It still boggled her mind. She wasn't a traitor. She wasn't! She was placed under the worst of circumstances, and yet she was still fighting, still doing all she could for the Alliance. This was the thanks she got? Getting an assassin set to kill her? Betrayal settled over her before she could think better of it.

And then there was Lord Vader. What was she supposed to think of him? What _could _she think of him? He would never stop changing, even as he remained constant. It was hard to hold strong to beliefs with him there.

A trooper's image flashed on the screen, and despite him wearing his helmet, she knew it was Cory. _"Bastard really thought he could get away with it," _he explained to one reporter, even as the reporter was trying to tell him that he couldn't use such language, as though it would make a difference._ "I say let it be a lesson to anyone who would attempt to defy the Empire. Mess with anyone here and you'll be stopped."_

He was certainly loyal, Padmé had to give her friend that, but she couldn't stand to listen to him talking like that. He was so brainwashed by the Empire, but she'd known that. It was just unsettling that someone she considered a friend could hold such opposite beliefs. But maybe this was just to prove to her that not everything was black and white. Life wasn't made up of simply good and evil. There was so much territory between the two, previously left uncharted by her. Maybe her beliefs were just as flawed as the most uncompromising Imperials? That was a disturbing thought.

Sitting back in bed, she was surprised when the com sounded. Glancing over at the clock it showed it was only twenty-two hundred. Standing, she opened to door to reveal C-3PO. "Good evening, my lady," he said happily.

"Hi, Threepio," she smiled. "Is there something I can do for you? Artoo isn't here. I think he said something about testing a prototype or something."

"Oh, he would do something like that," the protocol droid said almost accusingly. "Yes, well, I'll have to go get him and bring him back here before the master finds out."

The senator smiled. "Then what can I do for you?"

"Oh! Oh my, yes, I'd nearly forgotten!" He held up a black cloth Padmé knew all too well. "Lord Vader requests that you put this on immediately. He will be coming to see you very soon."

_So early? _This was strange. And not just because of the time. Vader never asked her to be ready for him, never asked her to be blindfolded before he got here. What was he thinking? But she could hardly argue against this. He'd left her alone for nearly a week without hindering her activities. She really ought to be grateful that he had been lenient with her before.

"Okay, thanks," she nodded, taking the blindfold. "And when you find, Artoo, can you make sure to keep him busy while Lord Vader and I are…together?"

"Of course, my lady," the droid said instantly. "Is there anything else you require?"

"No thank you, Threepio."

"Very well. Goodnight, my lady."

"Goodnight."

Padmé watched the golden droid shuffle off in the direction of the lift and couldn't help the smile that came to her lips as she watched him. He was a good droid, sweet, but again, how had such a machine come into Vader's service. Surely the Sith would have gotten tired of 3PO's worrying and fretting all the time. Maybe the droid had been switched off all this time until Padmé had gotten here? No, 3PO seemed too well versed in Vader's manners, too familiar with his moods.

Whatever the case, Padmé was sure she'd never know. So she went and changed into her nightgown, not bothering with panties anymore, before she tired the blindfold around her head. It felt weird to have this on and be alone. She felt more than a little ridiculous sitting there on the bed like this. But then, what could she do?

Nervousness crept into her stomach again at the idea of Vader being with her. After the way she had yelled at him earlier she felt bad, but also still so confused. What should she think of the Sith Lord? She was still a little angry, but more grateful. As impossible as it'd seemed, he'd been kind to her and kindness went a long way in her book.

The sound of the doors opening made her jump in surprise, and she knew the lights were being turned off. It was eerily silent, and it took Padmé a moment to realize that the respirator was not sounding. Had he come here without his helmet? He'd never done that before. Her chest began to heave at the thought of him so close. To feel those deliciously sinful sensations he elicited within her.

Again, she jumped slightly when she felt his hands on her. She stood up, trying to remain balanced, and went to kneel on the bed. A hand stopped her. A real flesh and blood hand. She froze instantly at the touch. He'd only recently been bold enough to touch her without his glove, but she loved it. There was just something about the skin on skin contact.

He was taking off her nightgown, she realized, as she felt him hold her arms up. Her breath caught. She'd never been fully naked in from of him, and even though it shouldn't have mattered, she found herself self-conscious. What was he looking at? Was there something wrong with her? She was being foolish, but she couldn't help but bite her bottom lip. A part of her wanted him to like her, to not just use her, but to appreciate her, to think she was beautiful.

He was touching her now, that rough, calloused hand she'd dreamed about more than once was touching her shoulder, her neck, down to her chest, and finally to her breast. But it did not stay there. It slowly, lightly, trailed all around, to her stomach, to her hip, to her thigh. Padmé couldn't help the shiver of delight that over took her. He was barely even touching her, but that's what made it so erotic. How was it that this hand, the very one that had hours ago wielded a weapon, had so much blood on it, could be so gentle? Be so timid? Underneath her blindfold, Padmé's eyes slid shut.

For several minutes he just touched her, explored her, and she let him. Her body was his. That was in the contract. But it was more than that now. He had saved her life today. He had healed her. He'd let her take advantage of their deal. At this moment, this was not the same man that had cut off the arm of another person. She could _feel _it. This was a different person all together. This was…she didn't know but it wasn't really Vader.

Eventually his hand ended up tangled in her hair, while the other, still gloved, pushed lightly at her hip. She took a step backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. It was time, it was time for what he'd come for. But Padmé found she didn't want this to end. She didn't want the tenderness to be over just yet. When he took her, it was still so impersonal, almost cold. It had gotten better, but she didn't want this moment, whatever had just passed between them, to be lost, tainted.

She turned and crawled onto the bed. His clothing rustled as he was undoubtedly preparing himself, when Padmé turned back around so that she was facing him. Somehow, she had a sense of where he was, and before she lost her nerve, she reached forwards and grabbed him. His shock was evident to her, but she felt for his neck, then grabbed the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was one sided for the most part, Vader still being shocked, but Padmé poured everything she had into that kiss. It could very well be her last. But she wanted him to know, she wanted him to _feel _her confusion, gratefulness, anger, fear, longing, and need. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but this felt right. This felt like it was meant to be, which scared her just as much as it excited her.

Because of who she was kissing, she tried to memorize what he felt like. His lips were full and soft. Much softer than she would have thought, and her hands moved from his neck to his head. She felt hair. Vader actually had hair! He truly was humanoid. It was short, but softer than she would have thought.

Eventually she stopped, not sure, but feeling that it was hopeless. He wasn't responding. She might have lost hope as she pulled away, but then realized he still felt surprised. Surely he'd been kissed before! Even Padmé had kissed! But she was desperate to know what his response would be. It was the first time she had really touched him during this without him initiating anything. But she couldn't wait around anymore. She needed…_something_, and for whatever reason, it felt as though Vader was the one that could give it to her.

Just when Padmé thought she might need to apologize, she felt his hand on her cheek. She tried to smile at him, still so uncertain and afraid, but she held still. After another moment, she felt him kiss her. It was almost chaste, but she needed more. So much more. So she lightly bit his lip. He responded by pulling away, but she slipped her tongue into his mouth. The sound of him gasping slightly amused her, and made her wonder if he really hadn't kissed anyone before. But she wasn't about to let him go, and wrapped her arms around his neck, ensuring that he was trapped.

Eventually, he began to respond, even going as far as to mimic her. She turned next to his neck. His hand was almost instantly buried in her hair as he squirmed against her. Without his permission, she tried to pull him down on the bed with her, but he weighed too much. He soon realized what she was doing and wrapped his arm around her as he laid her down.

The moment, however, her head hit the bed, he was all over her. His mouth suddenly attacked her, kissing her neck, even biting it lightly. Padmé could honestly say she'd never felt anything so pleasurable in her life. But he didn't stop there. He was lost now, and started kissing and licking and biting her everywhere. Her breasts were his next target, and she had to gasp when he attacked them. Her hands automatically latched onto his back, and she realized he was still wearing a shirt of some kind. But it was loose fitting, so she slipped her hands under it and began running her hands up and down his back.

What she found when she touched him surprised her again. Taunt muscles. She couldn't see them, but she felt them. Letting her hands roam, her brain was still able to register that he really was muscular, and he certainly had abs. Maybe he wasn't old as she'd thought.

But soon she had to stop her investigation as Vader was becoming impatient. He entered her so suddenly, Padmé couldn't help but moan. But it hadn't hurt. At all. In fact, she'd been burning just as much as he had. She'd needed him, and finally, he was responding to her.

He began slamming into her, all gentleness gone, and Padmé couldn't have cared in the slightest. Her groans and whimpers only encouraged him as he continued, still sucking and nibbling her neck. He was overwhelming her, but she loved every second of it. She _needed _it.

Eventually, they couldn't focus on anything else but the basic need of release. Padmé didn't repress the sounds coming from her, and even Vader was grunting and making more than usual. The tension built until Padmé thought she would die with want. And just when she thought she was going to start screaming she wanted release so bad, she got it.

It was like a burst of flame swept over her entire body, burning her before immediately smoldering into a superb simmer that made her body hum. She was so high from the feeling that she hadn't noticed Vader was still going until a moan finally escaped him and she felt his weight pressed on top of her, his face buried in the croak of her neck.

For the first time since their deal, Vader didn't immediately get up and leave. Instead, he lay on top of her, both of them panting and sweating. He was so heavy, and yet the weight was comforting. Padmé could have stayed that way for quite a while, but eventually Vader rolled off of her, and sat up. When the bed came up, she knew he was on his feet. He was going to leave her.

"Wait!" she called.

He touched her shoulder, letting her know that he was still there. He didn't speak. But he didn't need to. Padmé used his arm as a guide to his face. When she came to it, she took his face in both of her hands once more, and kissed him softly. "Goodnight," she whispered.

Vader tensed, she could feel it, but he didn't leave. She was hoping he would say something, yearning to hear the sound of his real voice, but he didn't. Instead, he kissed her hand, then the other, before leaving her alone in the dark, physically satisfied, but emotionally wanting.

* * *

**Author's Note: **FINALLY! Progress! Geez, took 'em long enough.

Reviews, please? :3


	18. Chapter 18: Ensnared

**Chapter Eighteen: Ensnared **

There was something happening. He wasn't the Sith he should be. It had been happening so gradually that he'd tried to ignore it, tried to justify himself and his actions. He'd seen all the signs, but disregarded them. And now… _this_.

Sitting in his hyperbaric chamber, Vader sat with his head in his hands, staring down at his boots. What was happening to him? He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything without thinking about _her_. Senator Padmé Amidala. She'd bewitched him, it was the only conceivable explanation, yet he didn't know how it was possible. She was so…_alive_. She was captivating. And like a fool, he'd walked into her trap. He felt…something for her. Whatever it was, however, he knew it went beyond lust. He'd lusted over things before, but this…this was _terrifying. _

Every time he closed his eyes he could see her smile, or her big brown eyes staring up at him pleadingly. She was just one woman, for Force sake, and yet she had woven herself into his soul until he couldn't simply extract her. It would be too painful, too horrifying to try. She was there now, and he couldn't get her out.

He tried ignoring her, tried to undo, to un-feel what he could, but it didn't seem to help. Every step back he tried to take caused a fierce ache in his chest that very nearly overwhelmed him each time he attempted. The Force was pushing him forward, telling him _something_, but no matter how Vader tried to block it out, he heard it anyway. _Let go of your anger, _it seemed to say. _Give into the Light. _But he couldn't.

As of the day before, he'd now spent a full fifteen years living in darkness. The darkness had been his constant companion, the one thing that he could turn to, and it always waited for him with open arms. But those arms weren't warm. Those arms weren't inviting. The Darkness was cold and cruel and did not comfort, it did not give. It took and took until he had nothing left, not even his soul. He was empty because of the Darkness, but it had also made him strong. It had made him who he was.

But did he really like the person he'd become?

Why couldn't things go back to the way they had been before? It had taken years for Vader to learn how to cope with the guilt of his sins, with the powers he could harness, and just when he had finally become numb to it all, he was once again thrown into the fires of passion. To feel so much other than the anger that had been his confidant for so long. He was torn and he didn't know what to do.

He'd already interrogated the prisoner that had tried to assassinate Amidala. To assassinate _Padmé_. It turned out he was a rouge even among rebels, and had decided that the senator had betrayed them all. Without authorization from the Rebel High Command, he'd decided to go on his own suicide mission and kill the senator and maybe even shoot him in the process. Apparently the fool hadn't heard about the powers of a Sith Lord or at least didn't believe them. Vader was fortunate that he reacted as quickly as he did.

But then that was also a problem. It wasn't just that he'd reacted without thought, it was the fact that he'd reacted when called by the _Light_. It hadn't been the Darkness to warn him, it had been the Light. The Dark Side only cared for self-preservation, the Light cared about everything else. He had simply reacted to the warning without second thought. It was only later that he realized he'd called upon the Light Side of the Force.

There was something seriously wrong with him. He couldn't understand why this was happening, but knew it was centered around Padmé. He was getting too…_attached_ to her. It was dangerous and stupid of him, but he couldn't help it. She was the first creature to ever reach out to him since he'd left his homeworld. She'd been the first person in just as long whose touch did not hurt. What had started out as curiosity and a deal was quickly overtaking them both. He had felt her emotions the previous night, the way she had kissed him. It was a very bad sign. She was falling into her own trap faster than he was.

This hadto stop! Before it destroyed them both!

But he didn't _want _it to stop! He'd been through so much in his young life, could he not, just this once, have something of his own? Something beautiful that he did not destroy? It was not the way of the Sith, but it was what he desperately wanted. He wanted this more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his life, including his freedom from Sidious.

Sidious. He had a meeting with his master soon to talk about the rebel. It had been an urgent summons. No doubt his master felt the shifting of the Force. The Emperor would hardly care so much for one rebel, it was just an excuse to question Vader. He knew this, and he would prepare accordingly. But oh how he dreaded the encounter. Just the thought of seeing his master right now left a bad taste in his mouth. The thought of being around the elder Sith made him feel sick.

Why? He hadn't felt this way around Sidious since he'd been a child. Was the Darkness really leaving him? Or was he leaving it? Either way, it distressed Vader. The Darkness was strength, the Light was weakness. Right? Then why was it that the Light could push him from his resolve, when the Darkness could not hold? Why was it that in the competition for is soul, the Light was slowly pulling ahead?

_You don't have a soul_, Vader scolded himself. _You carved that out years ago_.

The dark thought depressed him even when it should have cheered him. He was weakening. He was not the man he was several months ago. He was something else. Something different. He didn't like it. It scared him.

Sighing, he stood up from his chair and grabbed his helmet and mask. He was about to put them on when he caught his reflection on the computer terminal. Staring at his reflection, he couldn't help the sadness he felt looking into harsh, ruby-gold eyes. A long, long time ago, almost another lifetime, he could have stared into the computer and seen blue. But that had been a different person, just a boy, young and innocent. He was anything but, now.

Yet as he continued to stare, slowly bringing his hand up to run it through his hair. His eyes closed as he remembered Padmé's delicate fingers trying to tangle themselves there. How those warm palms had been pressed against his face so gently. So soft. He had to make sure it never happened again. What if the Emperor found out and killed her? He couldn't let that happen!

It took all of his strength of will to replace the mask over his face and seal the helmet. It wouldn't be long now before he could rid himself of it forever. He just had to be patient. But even as he reminded himself of his inevitable seizure of power, he couldn't help the claustrophobia that settled in over him. It was getting worse. It was almost better to leave it on so he wouldn't have to force himself to put it on again, but he couldn't help wish to taste the fresh air again, to breathe and not hear the accursed hissing of the respirator. How he longed to be back with Padmé, lying next to her, breathing and not worry about the life support suite at all.

But he couldn't. Not right now. Maybe tonight…

No. Not tonight. Not ever again. He couldn't fall into this again! But he couldn't stay away. He was going insane with want, insane with indecision. Something had to give, but he wasn't sure what.

Walking out of his room, Vader couldn't help but be pulled to the senator's door. She wasn't there right now. She was at the senate. A part of him wanted to go inside and just be there. Maybe lie down in her bed, see if he could smell the scent of her hair on her pillow. But he didn't, and not just because he was fairly certain that it was weird. Senator Amidala was like an addiction, and he had to cut himself off if he were ever to get back to his normal self.

On his way to the palace, he made sure to mentally prepare himself to be before his master. He couldn't have Sidious suspecting anything was occupying his apprentice's mind save for power and the Empire. While the Emperor had expressed his desire that the senator be kept alive, that she could be useful, Vader was certain that if it came between choosing her or his apprentice, Sidious would chose Vader and have the young woman terminated immediately. That could not happen. Her life could not be extinguished from this world!

When he made it to the Throne Room, he was let in by the Royal Guards, who seemed to be watching him closely. They were wary of him, more than usual. He could feel it. There was something going on here. Perhaps he hadn't been as good at keeping his thoughts private? No, that could not be. His master must just still be suspicious of him. It was smart for the old man to be, but foolish since he was no doubt suspicious for the wrong reasons. At least in part.

As he walked into the room, Vader saw that it was clear except for more Royal Guards and the Emperor. The same as always. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. As always he knelt down before the throne, trying not to let his anger at still having to show respect for this man be revealed to his master.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

As was custom, the Emperor told him to rise. "I understand that you apprehended a rebel last evening," was his opening. It was almost pleasant sounding. Vader had to be on his guard.

"Yes, my master."

"Have you discovered his purpose?"

"He came to assassinate Senator Amidala."

The Emperor appeared thoughtful, but for what reason, it was hard to say. "For what purpose? She is a rebel herself."

"Rumor of her…_connection _to me has spread far," Vader began carefully. "This man was under the impression that the senator betrayed the Rebellion and so took it upon himself to punish her."

"I see," Sidious drawled slowly. "What else were you able to find out?"

"He was not necessarily acting on part of the Rebel Alliance," the younger Sith reported. "I have no doubt that the senator's friends in Rebel High Command were trying to protect her image despite rumor. Bail Organa in particular would have been aware of the fact that Amidala was merely drunk. This man disagreed with all defense and acted on his own. A foolish decision," he sneered.

The Emperor was nodding along. "And what have you learned from Amidala about this?"

"She is confused, Master," Vader began carefully, not wanting to give anything away about his lover that he didn't have to. Of course he knew a lot of what she did. He knew she was passing information, knew she was trying to trick him, but his master didn't need to know that. Indeed, his master wouldn't find out until the end when Vader was standing over him, lightsaber blazing, and taking the last breaths of this life. "She did not know who this would-be assassin was."

"Not at all?" the Emperor sounded just as disappointed as disgusted.

"No. She believed his ruse as a reporter. She also did not take it well that I accused him of being a rebel."

"I find it hard to believe that that's all you learned from her," Sidious sneered, narrowing his eyes in distrust.

"Even with the gradual link, her mind resistance is considerable," Vader supplied easily, showing the truth of his words to his master. "I have learned for certain that she is a rebel as well as Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. Do you wish for me to dispose of them?"

While his words sounded causal, Vader hoped his master wouldn't say yes. He was bluffing, and he wasn't sure what he would do if his master called it. There was no way he would let the Emperor kill Senator Amidala, but he also didn't really want to have to kill the other two senators. They were Padmé's friends. He doubted she would be very impressed if he disposed of them. In fact, he was certain that she would probably never want to talk to him again, would end their deal, and certainly never want to have another night as they had last evening. The last, in particular, hurt. He wasn't sure he could go with never experiencing that again.

"No," the Emperor said slowly. "No, not yet, my young apprentice. We may yet be able to bleed more information from them. Have them monitored extensively. Anything that goes on in that senate, I want to know about it."

"Yes, Master."

Again the two fell silent, Vader waiting for either more or to be dismissed, while Sidious seemed content to study his apprentice longer. What he was looking for was anyone's guess, but Vader made sure that his shields were up and that nothing could leak through. He even surrounded himself with all of the Darkness he could without going into a rage and end up killing everyone here. But then, would that have been such a bad thing?

"There has been a disturbance in the Force," the elder Sith continued at last.

Vader automatically nodded. "I have felt it." Of course he'd felt it. It originated from him!

It was torturous to wait for his master to continue. Vader, however, in that time readied himself in case of a fight. If his master knew it had come from him, he would no doubt punish him, and something in Vader knew he couldn't take it. Not again. He was becoming desperate to avoid his master as much as possible, to just be left alone. He couldn't take another electrocution or beating or whipping anymore. He would snap if he did. That was a guarantee.

Thankfully, however, his master was still apparently not aware of his apprentice's flirtation with the Light Side of the Force. Or if he was, he was not overly concerned. If that was the case, Vader could only suspect that he had something else to entrench his apprentice in the Darkness once more.

"A Jedi has been seen on Geonosis," the Emperor stated. The younger Sith instantly became more alert. "He was seen snooping about the old Separatist headquarters."

Anger flared in Vader at the thought of a Jedi, and his hands automatically balled into fists. He hated them. All of them, even after nearly four years. They didn't deserve life and he would take pleasure in taking it. It was an insult to everything he'd ever worked towards that a Jedi was yet alive!

The Emperor was smiling, but Vader ignored it. "I will leave immediately, Master."

"See that you do, Lord Vader," Sidious nodded. "Find this Jedi," he spat the name. "Find it and destroy it."

"As you wish, my master," the younger man bowed before he turned and stalked out of the room, his mind swirling with hatred and loathing. He would find this Jedi and he would kill him. He would find him and take revenge for what one of his fellows had done to him. He would have his revenge on all the Jedi. Even if it took the rest of his life, he would see to it that they were _all _exterminated from the galaxy.

But revenge would not sit well with Padmé, he couldn't help but realize. She stood for justice, not revenge. But was he not enacting justice for what had been done to him? This _was _justice. The Jedi had tried to kill him, so he would kill them all to ensure that they could never attempt to kill him again. Yet, he had a strange feeling come over him, something whispering sorrow at his thoughts. Padmé's sad, horrified face came to mind.

Growling in frustration at these conflicting emotions, the Sith strode down the palace halls and to the hanger where he jumped in his speeder and was away. He would need to get a shuttle and then be on his way to a Star Destroyer that would take him to Geonosis. Preparations would have to be made, and it would probably take half an hour before a suitable ship could be found. He despised waiting, and wasn't sure what he would do between time. Though one idea did come to mind.

When he made it back to the base, he called for his P.A. and like a good man, Pilor was there within minutes. Vader explained what he needed done and for the Lieutenant to find a ship while he saw to other business. The young man saluted and immediately saw to the details. The Sith, too, didn't wait around, and turned to enter a shuttle and flew off towards the senate.

When he landed, the guards gave him a wide berth no doubt remembering he'd cut off a man's arm last he was here. Normally their fear would have amused him, would have fed his lust for Darkness, but he didn't even pay attention now. His mind was torn between wanting to kill the Jedi that had appeared, and seeing Padmé before he left, not wanting her to be angry with him. When he'd started caring about such things was a mystery, but it was true all the same.

When he came to her office suite, he entered as abruptly as always, and found the Storm Trooper just outside the senator's door, faithfully guarding. Her personnel, however, shrank back at the sight of him, but he didn't notice them. Indeed, he didn't notice anything else except the small woman behind the large desk at the far end of the room, who, from the moment she'd heard him enter, turned large brown eyes to him, and smiled.

She was _smiling _at him. Him! Why would she do such a thing? Especially after all he'd done to her. He'd made her life a living hell for months. His chest ached fiercely at the sight, and it made him feel both pleased and distraught at the same time. She was smiling at him. But would she if she knew what he was going to do?

But he could not dwell on that. The senator was already standing up, so Vader made his way into her office and shut the door behind him. The closer he was to her, the more he hurt. It wasn't just longing, it _hurt_. Was something wrong with him? What was this strange power she had over him? How could she make him feel this way? To create such sensations that nearly drove him mad?

"Is something wrong?"

The simple question grabbed Vader from his thoughts and brought him back to reality. He could not focus on this woman. He had come here with purpose and then he would soon be out in the galaxy hunting. It used to be one of his favorite things, but now…Now all the young Sith wanted to do was stay here, near this woman who was causing him so much agony.

"I'm leaving," he said simply.

Brown eyes blinked for a moment in surprise, before the senator nodded. "All right. When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

So much disappointment! She didn't _want _him to leave. How was this possible? "You'll be all right, though…won't you?" she asked timidly.

It was beginning to be too much. He couldn't handle this. Not her. Not like this. What was wrong with him?! "Yes. While I'm gone, the same rules apply," he pushed onward. "Except I would advise you not speak to certain…friends."

She blinked at him, again, becoming wary. "What do you—"

"The entire senate is being watched," he said quietly, not even knowing why he bothered to tell her. But he didn't want her to get in trouble. He had already made up his mind to betray his master very soon, so he didn't stop to feel any form of guilt. Guilt was beneath a Sith Lord, but Vader had to admit, it wasn't entirely beneath _him_.

"Oh," was her only reply. She looked confused again, and sad. He didn't like it. "I suppose I'll see you in…well, whenever you return."

"When you return to base, call your family," he told her, not even really sure what he was saying. He just wanted to tell her something that would make her happy again.

Padmé gawked up at him in utter shock. "What?...B-but I thought—?"

"Do you not want to talk to them?" he snapped, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with not only the situation, but himself. What he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't back out now.

"No! No, I-I want to talk to them," she said quickly. And again, a slow smile crept onto her face. How it hurt him! "Thank you."

This was wrong. This was not how a Sith Lord was supposed to act. There was something terribly wrong with him. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't stop this…this…whatever it was with the senator. Kriff, he would give anything to make the agony of being near her and being away from her disappear! To be his old self again! But he couldn't. Not matter what, he would lose.

And so, for the first time in Vader's life, he turned and left, running away from a challenge, from his problems. And even as wonderful as her smiles really were, he couldn't stand to see it anymore. He had to stop thinking about her. He had work to do.

**oOoOoOo**

For the first time since meeting him, Padmé realized that she'd witnessed Lord Vader flustered. There was something going on with him, but she didn't know what. He hadn't seemed like his normal self. He'd seemed a lot more brooding and pensive. Maybe the mission he was going on caused this?

But she didn't really want to be depressed at the moment. She'd gotten permission from Vader to contact her family. After nearly six months, she was finally going to talk to them! Once more, the Dark Lord of the Sith had done something nice for her. She couldn't help but smile.

After several deep breaths, she punched in the code for Naboo on a terminal in one of the conference rooms in Vader's wing, and sat back, waiting to be patched through to her parents. After waiting several minutes, her father's face came on the screen. "Hello?" he asked, clearly not recognizing the number from where she was calling. But the moment he saw her, he brightened considerably. "Padmé!" he cried. "Jobal! Get in here!"

Before Padmé could have said anything, she heard her mother coming into the room. "Ruwee, what on Naboo are you yelling abou— Padmé!" she exclaimed seeing her youngest on the screen.

"Hi mom. Hi dad," Padmé smiled. "How are you?"

"How are _we_?" her father snorted. "I think that's what we're supposed to ask you! Dear Force, Padmé, what's happened? What's going on?"

"We've been hearing all sorts of strange things for the past several months!" her mother added. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Padmé tried to reassure her parents, but wasn't sure if she was getting through to them. "It's just been…hard to communicate lately."

"Padmé," her mother said gently. Too gently. The way her mother said her name nearly overwhelmed the young woman, and she quickly found tears in her eyes. It was just _so good_ to see and hear her family again. It'd been too long. "What happened, sweetheart?"

Taking a deep breath, trying not to let herself become overwhelmed again, she smiled at her parents. "Well, it started almost six months ago," she began carefully. "The Emperor heard rumors about me being in the Rebel Alliance, or was at least a rebel sympathizer." Her parents' stiffened. "He was concerned for my safety, and began an investigation into the matter. He was also concerned that everyone at the senate would turn on me and feared attacks against my life so he assigned Lord Vader to watch over me and had me moved into the Imperial Military Base for my own protection."

Even though Vader had said she could talk to her family, she was fairly certain he didn't want anyone to know the truth about what had happened. And she couldn't very well burden her parents with the knowledge that their daughter was indeed a rebel and had very nearly lost her life. She didn't want them to have to worry, to be afraid for her. They wouldn't understand how she'd gotten into this mess, nor would they understand all the secrets she'd been keeping and her involvement with Vader. But most importantly, she didn't want to endanger them. The less they knew the better.

Ruwee Naberrie, however, didn't look at all pleased with this explanation. "They just took you away from your apartment? Why didn't you tell us sooner?! We've been trying to get ahold of you for months!"

"I'm so sorry, dad." Once more, her emotions unexpectedly ran high. She'd never meant to hurt them. "But Lord Vader has been rather…paranoid about my safety and thought it would be best to keep my off-world communications down until all of this mess with the rebels was figured out."

It sounded lame to her and absolutely fake. Darth Vader didn't really strike anyone in the galaxy as being the protective type. Yet he had proven to be so with her, at least, if yesterday was any indication.

"And he couldn't've let you at least send _one _message in all that time?" Ruwee scowled.

"Apparently not," Padmé shrugged, trying to seem as calm as possible on this issue. "I'd asked him several times to let me contact you, but it was only today that he said I could."

"What makes today so special, I wonder?" Jobal frowned.

"Well…" Padmé bit her bottom lip, wondering just how much she should say. "A rebel assassin was captured yesterday."

"_Assassin_?!" Ruwee's eyes went wide. "You were almost assassinated?!"

"Oh, Padmé!" her mother cried, looking as though she wanted to come through the screen and crush her daughter in a hug.

"It's fine, I'm not hurt," Padmé reassured quickly. Apparently news of yesterday hadn't gotten to Naboo yet. "Lord Vader happened to be right there and took care of the assassin, who is now in custody."

Both Ruwee and Jobal's eyes went rather wide, but they remained silent. Apparently she'd said something that put them on alert and roused suspicion, though she couldn't figure out what. It made her feel paranoid. "What?"

"Sweetheart," her mother began carefully. "Your father and I are relieved that you're all right, we really are. And we're grateful that you've been looked after but…well…"

"What's with these rumors of you and Lord Vader being a couple?" her father finished.

Of course they'd hear about _that_. Of all the lies that had to have been spread about her, why had it involved Vader? What made it worse, however, was that the rumors weren't exactly too far off. As Vader had pointed out, they were close enough to being a couple as it was, and that was dangerous. From what she could gather, Vader was not supposed to have any sort of physical intimacy with her at all, even for torturing purposes. What they were doing was skating on thin ice, and Padmé knew it was only a matter of time before something got out. She just had to make sure it wasn't because of her.

"We're _not _a couple, dad," she rolled her eyes to show the ridiculousness of such a thing, even as her heart hurt at the thought. "Those pictures were taken and shown out of context."

Her parents were silent a moment, before his father raised an eyebrow. "So what _was _the context?"

For the first time in many, many years, Padmé felt like a girl again, her father suspicious of all the boys that talked to her. She couldn't help the blush of frustration and embarrassment that came over her face. "It was nothing," she sighed. "We were both invited to the party, and since I was staying at the base and he pretty much lives here and was assigned to protect me, we went together. And I…may or may not have had a little to drink."

She winced when she saw her mother's expression. "Padmé Naberrie!" Jobal exclaimed. "How much to drink? Don't you know that can be dangerous?!"

"Especially with a man like Vader around," Ruwee added angrily.

"Nothing happened!" Padmé exclaimed in frustration. _Not then, anyway. _"Besides, I'm twenty-four-years-old. I can look after myself."

"That's not the point, sweetheart," her mother sighed. "We just worry about you. We want you to be safe. It's not that we don't trust you, it's—"

"It's everyone else we don't trust," her father added.

While it was comforting to know that her parents still loved her enough to scold and worry about her, Padmé couldn't help feel a little exasperated. It just went to show that you could be a queen of an entire planet and then a galactic senator, and your parents _still _wanted to meddle. They probably still thought of her as a little girl.

But before Padmé could reassure them, her door opened. Startled, she turned around, almost hoping that it was Vader and that his mission had been canceled, but was surprised to see a trooper in the doorway. "Cory!" she exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The trooper stayed in the doorway, still very much in professional mode. "Senator," he nodded. "The Emperor wishes an audience with you."

The color in Padmé's face drained. The Emperor? What did he want? Vader hadn't said anything about meeting with the Emperor…But maybe he hadn't known. After all, the Sith had been sent out on a mission, leaving her all alone. If the Emperor was going to do something to her, it'd be now. There would be no Vader to intervene. The thought made her sick.

"A-all right," she nodded. "I'll be ready in just a moment." Turning back to the screen, she saw her parents looking very concerned. "I have to go now," she tried to smile at them. "I'll try and call again very soon."

"Be careful, sweetheart," Jobal nearly whispered. "We love you."

"Love you too," Padmé smiled again, "Send my love to Sola and her family too," she said before having to turn off the screen.

As she stood, she saw Cory still waiting for her patiently. He was still in trooper mode, and it didn't make her feel better. She was becoming frightened. She wished her friend could give her some comfort.

Neither of them spoke as they made their way out of Vader's wing and to the palace. Whatever was going to happen, she just hoped that she could withstand the Emperor as she had the last time she'd been before him, because there really was no Vader to save her now.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Uh-oh! Palpatine, you bastard!

Thanks again everyone for all the reviews! I love to hear from you all! Might I request to have more? :)


	19. Chapter 19: Shattered

**Chapter Nineteen: Shattered**

When they made it to the Throne Room, Padmé couldn't help the nervousness she felt at seeing those overly large doors again. She didn't exactly have the best memories of this place. But at least this time she wasn't dragged in by Storm Troopers, just escorted by a friend who happened to be a trooper. But she couldn't even take much comfort in the fact that Cory was with her. He was a Storm Trooper, she had to remember that, and his duty went before everything else. That was just the way of things.

The Royal Guards opened the doors for them in unison, and even though she shouldn't, Padmé wondered at the men who guarded the Emperor. Where they troopers too? If not, what sort of men willingly guarded such an evil man? Had they been brainwashed or simply misguided? They just didn't seem real to her, to be so perfectly in sync with one another. It was unnatural.

But she turned her mind away from them and focused her full attention and protecting herself against the Emperor. When she'd been guarded by Jedi in the past, they'd briefly taught her how to raise her shields against unwanted invasion of the mind. But she knew it only went for light probing. If a Force-sensitive wanted to get into her head badly enough, there was nothing she could do to stop it. The thought made her feel cold inside, but she could not give into despair. She refused to let Palpatine win.

When they stopped before the throne, Cory bowed low, but Padmé refused. The Emperor's sickly yellow eyes surveyed her with barely concealed contempt. He flicked his hand dismissively. "Leave us."

Once more, Cory bowed low before he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the senator to face the dragon alone. She knew he was only doing his duty, but Padmé couldn't help but feel abandoned all the same. Would she even live to see her twenty-fifth birthday? She wasn't sure.

"Senator Amidala," the Emperor began neutrally. "I see Lord Vader has been keeping you in good health."

Setting her jaw, Padmé lifted her head defiantly. "He has."

The old man smiled sickeningly. "It surprises me considering he tends to forget about your existence every time I talk to him."

It took everything within Padmé to keep her expression from changing, even as the Sith's words stung. They did more than just sting. It was more like a slap to the face. Vader forgot about her? Did he not care about her? Had everything they'd been through, what they'd just done the previous night, really mean _nothing _to him? It should not have surprised Padmé. Vader was a Sith too, after all, and had made it very clear in the beginning that he didn't like her and didn't care about her. But she'd thought that had changed.

No. She could not let the Emperor feel her distress. Could not let him on to the fact that Vader meant anything to her. She wasn't certain, but the senator had the feeling that if Palpatine found out that she cared about Vader or the reverse, that not only would she be endangering herself, but Vader as well. Even if what the Emperor had said was true, she couldn't let Vader be hurt. She couldn't deny it anymore. She cared about Vader, and she couldn't let him be punished because of her.

So, screwing up her courage, pushing aside all feeling, Padmé raised an eyebrow at her former mentor, as if to ask why she should care. Indeed, she let her anger surface so if he was watching her mentally, he could get nothing except resentment. "So?" she even managed to audaciously cross her arms over her chest. "Why would he be thinking of me?"

Palpatine's smile melted from his thin, pale lips, as his eyes narrowed into slits. He said nothing for a moment as he stared at her. Padmé could feel something brush up against her mind, but she fought it, not letting it in. Somehow, she found the strength to push it away with something she didn't even think was her own. But she latched on to it, as it helped expel the Emperor. She would worry about what it was later.

"He should be thinking about you often," the Emperor said slowly. "I've assigned him to guard you, after all."

"And he has," she replied flatly.

"Yes," he drawled leaning back. "I find it curious, however, that you seem in good spirits, considering his close…attention to you."

"He's not all that hard to live with," she scowled up at him. "You keep him running around everywhere at all hours of the day, I imagine."

"What has he told you of his work?"

The suspicion in his voice was not hard to miss, and Padmé found herself surprised by it. It wasn't just suspicion, it was anger, even hatred. Not once had she stopped to consider that maybe Vader and the Emperor didn't like each other. It just didn't seem plausible. They were always together, two Sith Lords that had built the Empire together. The public was shown how much they supported each other, but was there something else to their partnership? She would have to do some digging. Maybe she could even ask Vader?

"He says nothing," she scowled deeper. "Why would he?"

Again, she felt something dark brush against her mind, but once more, something surged in her mind that expelled the Emperor's attempts. It felt strange, like she wasn't even a part of it. Like it was two different forces fighting over her mind, and she was just in the middle. But she tried not to let her panic at the thought get the better of her. Right now she had to focus solely on Palpatine.

"I was hoping you would tell me," he said drily, leaning back in his throne, apparently not believing her, but not having enough to act against her. Truly Palpatine was different than Vader. She knew for a fact that Vader reacted and gave into his temper without a second thought. Palpatine was more cunning, it seemed, watching and waiting, that was his style. It made her wonder again if the two Sith Lords could work together.

"I know nothing," she allowed bitterness to enter her voice. After a pause, she decided to do a bit more acting. "Why are you still holding me? I haven't done anything! I've been locked away with Vader for nearly half a _year_ and still nothing. I can't do anything and nothing's happened. Can't you see I'm innocent?"

The Emperor started laughing an eerie cackle that disgusted her just as much as it frightened her. "You are _far _from innocent, Senator. We both know that," he grinned evilly. "I just haven't decided what I want your fate to be." Despite her best efforts, she paled. It caused the Sith to smile wider. "I could have Lord Vader kill you. He's been anxious to do so for quite some time. Just today he asked if he could dispose of you."

Again, Padmé fought to keep her face masked, but she couldn't quite do it. Once more she'd been slapped in the face by the cold, callousness of Vader. Had he really said that? Was he really just waiting around for the order to kill her? Did she really mean so little to him after all they'd done together? Or was this a lie? No, it couldn't be a lie. It sounded exactly like something Vader would do. Vader had his moments of strangeness when he was almost kind, but they weren't common. Maybe she'd been a fool to believe that there was something worth caring about in him.

But she had to carry on, had to keep this despicable mask and hide her pain, hide her sorrow and horror. When before the Emperor, one always had to be on their guard. So, after glaring at him a moment longer, making sure her voice was steady, she asked, "Then why hasn't he?"

Palpatine laughed again, probably sensing her fear and anger. "Because I told him not to," he smirked. "Have you not yet realized that he is my slave, Senator?" he asked mockingly. "Vader only ever does _anything _with my approval. If I told him to come back here and kill you, he would do so without hesitation, without mercy. And if I told him to torture you until you told us everything about the rebellion, he would take great joy in doing it.

"What, did you think that you were _safe _with him?" the Emperor sneered, even as Padmé found she couldn't breathe. "Did you really think that he had any humanity left? That perhaps by occupying space close to him that he would think better of you?" She didn't reply.

"No, Senator," he continued. "You are gravely mistaken. He knows his place and does as he's told. He only saved you from that rebel assassin because he knew I would be displeased if you had died then. Not that it would have been a great loss," he added.

But by then, Padmé was hardly listening. Even as she was breaking on the inside, she held her mask, forcing her face to remain set, even as she wanted to cry. She could not do so here. Not now. "I know what he is," she said, her voice hard, emotionless, lest a sob escape.

"Good," the Emperor sneered, but sat back to regard her again. It was only by sheer stubbornness that she hadn't cracked yet, but she knew she couldn't handle this much longer. "Must be alarming," he began again in mock-pity, "to know that you are living with a creature that would enjoy killing you, and then having your old friends out to kill you as well." Her lower lip quivered, but she refused to give in, even as she felt darkness slowly crushing her.

"You will die one way or another, Senator," Palpatine smiled. "But it will be when I say. I look forward to the day when Lord Vader brings me your head."

With a wave of his hand, the Emperor dismissed her. Padmé continued to glare at him, even as tears so desperately wanted to form in her eyes. She wouldn't let them. And she hardly noticed when she felt someone take her by the arm, gently, and pull her away, out the door. She didn't remember walking through the palace or being led by Cory. She didn't remember the ride back to the base, or walking to the lift and up to Vader's wing.

Only when she was carefully helped to sit down on her bed did she come out of her defensive mask and looked over to see Cory staring at her, helmet lying next to him on the floor as he watched her with concern. That was all it took, to see real concern.

Padmé finally snapped and she began bawling. She couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. Without realizing what she was doing, she threw her arms around Cory's neck and sobbed into his armored shoulder, not caring how uncomfortable it was. She couldn't even feel it. All she felt was a stabbing pain in her heart as the Emperor's words repeated themselves over and over again in her mind.

**oOoOoOo**

Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed as he looked around the desert world that held so many terrible memories. It had not been too far away from here where his padawan had been killed. Just being on the planet again made him ill and brought a swell of emotions. But he couldn't concentrate on that now. No, his former master had come to him again with news: The Chosen One was coming to Geonosis.

The young Knight could hardly believe it. The Chosen One! Coming _here _of all places! And to think, he'd considered not coming here at all. It had only been after meditation, even before Qui-Gon had come to him the first time, that the Force had suggested the planet to him. Truly the Force worked in mysterious ways.

He'd been here for weeks now, searching for any signs of Imperial presence. There was none. Not really. Much of the Separatists' bases here had long been destroyed almost beyond recognition. The clones had seen to that, and the natives made sure to stay far away. They, no doubt, remembered the war only several years back now. While the planet was Imperial, it was odd, at least to Obi-Wan, that there wasn't more of a presence here. Maybe the Imperial realized what a worthless dust ball this place really was?

Sighing, the Jedi sat down in one of the old control rooms that had been a base for the Separatists. He'd stayed here for a few days, despite knowing how dangerous it was. If the Chosen One was to come here, he wanted to make sure that he was found. He had a very great feeling that today would be the day.

But in the meantime, he occupied himself by trying to get some of the old computers working. It was largely useless, but soon he discovered one that hadn't been so severely damaged by the troopers' rambunctious shooting spree. There was a lot of dust in everything and sand, but he managed to get it working again. The image that came up, however, filled him with both anger and bitterness.

Dooku. Of course it would show that traitorous pig. It had shocked the Council when it had learned of the former Jedi's involvement with the Trade Federation, and it made the fight just that much more bitter. How was it possible that a man who had formally been one of the most renown Jedi Masters, had turned his back on their teachings so completely? To become a Dark Jedi and use his powers for chaos? It just didn't make sense, at least not to Obi-Wan.

What had exactly happened to the man, no one knew. Obi-Wan knew that there had been fear of Dooku turning completely to the Dark Side and becoming a Sith, but soon, Dooku had suddenly disappeared. Master Kit Fisto had, while on a mission on to the third moon of Vassek, found the mutilated body of the former Jedi some time later. Dooku had been decapitated. His heart had also obviously been ripped out of his chest, and his insides look as though they had exploded. He had met a gruesome end, and even though Obi-Wan still resented the man for turning his back on the Jedi, he couldn't help but pity the traitor. No one deserved to die the way he had.

As his mind went to darker thoughts, he was suddenly roused by a disturbance in the Force. Someone was coming. He leapt to his feet, anxiousness and excitement warring over him at the thought of meeting the Chosen One. But that joy met a swift and painful death the moment he realized that the disturbance was dark. _Black_.

_Oh no! _

As fast as he could, Obi-Wan ran out of the control room and towards the exit. He couldn't get trapped down here. He would never survive! He had to get out, get away. He had to warn the Chosen One!

But it was too late.

Just before he made it to the exit, a dark figure filled the doorway, blotting out the starlight and, indeed, escape. The _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber sounded, and the cave was now bathed in the terrifying glow of red, even as the hissing of a respirator filled the cavern. Obi-Wan's mouth went dry. He needed no introduction to this creature.

Grabbing his lightsaber, the Knight ignited his weapon and held a defensive posture, adding a blue glow to the room, clashing with the red. Even as terror threatened to consume him, Obi-Wan reached out to the Force, praying for its guidance, for its comfort. But he couldn't really feel anything other than the crushing darkness that exuded from the Sith. He couldn't even feel his master's presence anymore. He was alone.

"At last," the Sith's booming voice echoed slightly off the walls. "Another Jedi for me to dispel from the universe."

"You wish," Obi-Wan snapped, hoping his fear was not so evident to the Sith.

Slowly, Darth Vader, the Slayer of the Jedi, walked deeper into the cave, his heavy boots echoing all around. He was big. Bigger than Obi-Wan had thought. Stories of the terror in black had not done him justice. Or at least, Obi-Wan hadn't really believed everything he'd been told of the Sith. A grievous error on his behalf, he realized.

When Vader stood before him, Obi-Wan tensed and took a step back. He couldn't believe this was really happening. He'd been so hopeful only a short time ago, and now this. Could there ever truly be hope for the galaxy with the likes of Vader alive? He had barely escaped a Sith once ten years ago now, he didn't have much faith that he would do so again. Last time it had been due to blind luck, but it wouldn't happen this time. Already, without knowing what he did about this Sith, he could sense Vader's presence in the Force. Vader was much stronger than Maul had been. So much stronger.

_Force help me, _he thought, watching as the Sith regarded him as well. _Master, forgive me. I've failed you. Again._

And without warning, Vader attacked. There was no indication, no hesitation. Somehow Obi-Wan was able to block the first blow, amazed at the speed at which the Sith had moved. He hadn't counted on that. He'd actually thought he'd have the advantage of agility, and maybe he did, but not by enough. Vader looked so heavy, but apparently looks were deceiving. Obi-Wan should have remembered that.

But what he did remember was that he could not beat Vader here, not like this. The Sith had the higher ground as the hanger was slanted downwards. He needed to get somewhere else, maybe to a place where it didn't matter who had what position. _The old droid foundry! _he thought, and after parrying another blow, took off at a dead run towards the door and farther into the base.

Obi-Wan was not fooled into thinking that he had surprised the Sith, or at least not for long. He gathered up what Force he could and sprinted as fast as he could. But even still, he could hear Vader give chase. Alarmingly, the Sith was gaining.

Turning a corner sharply to buy time, the Jedi's mind was racing, trying to come up with more of a plan to face the Sith. Despair threatened to overtake him, but he couldn't let that happen. Too much was at stake for him to fall. Yet, Vader had almost singlehandedly wiped out the entire Jedi Temple, what hope did Obi-Wan have against such a creature? _Master, help me! _he thought desperately, as he willed his mind to think of _something_.

It was obvious that Vader was not to be underestimated in anything. Apparently his respirator did not mean that he could not run, nor exert himself physically. This mad dash was proof of that. And apparently Vader was still quiet agile, even if there seemed to be just the slightest hindrance to his movement by the suit itself. In overall strength Obi-Wan knew he didn't stand a chance. He'd heard about Vader's fighting style, had seen it from records at the Jedi Temple. The Sith's main strategy was to simply overwhelm his opponents before he crushed them. Brutal strength was his ally.

The Force screamed at Obi-Wan, and he turned around in time to block Vader's blade as the Sith had managed to catch up to him. As he'd just thought, the strength behind the blow was immense and set shockwaves of pain through the Jedi's arms, but he refused to dwell on it. Gridding his teeth, he prepared himself for a skirmish.

Vader did not bother to hold himself back. The hatred and darkness rolling off of this Sith was staggering. Never before had Obi-Wan felt such intense hate, not even from his last duel with a Sith. He had never even thought it possible that so much negativity could be built up side just one being before! How sad it must be to live such a life. How sad it must be to be this creature. Without his leave, Obi-Wan found himself pitying the creature attacking him.

He parried for several intense minutes, as Vader came at him again and again. The attacks were quick, precise, and devastating. One blow the Knight had barely been able to deflect, but it just caught his arm, cutting. He hissed in pain, but pushed it aside. Gathering up as much of the Force as he could, even as the Darkness was choking him, Obi-Wan Force pushed the Sith with all his might.

Vader barely budged, and hadn't even moved back a full meter, but it was all Obi-Wan needed. As fast as he could, he began sprinting for the droid foundry. Even though he knew he would probably not be any safer there than he was anywhere near Vader, it was all he could think to do. He would rather be remembered by the Sith as having put up some fight rather than just laying down and dying. He owed it to all the Jedi who had been before him, to his master, his padawan, and indeed, himself.

The moment he came to the doorway, the Force once more screamed at him, and without thinking, Obi-Wan somersaulted in the air, just missing Vader's blade, and landing roughly on the production line. Nothing worked in here anymore, the troopers that had attacked Geonosis years ago had been ordered to destroy everything, but the silence was to Obi-Wan's advantage. He could hear Vader coming, and there were plenty of places to hide, to leap and stay out of the way. Vader might be faster than he'd thought, but with that suit, Obi-Wan was just a tad faster. He would use that to his advantage.

When the conveyer shook, rattling, he knew the Sith had jumped down to join him. The Knight wasted no time in making his escape. His legs were screaming at him, his lungs burned, but still Obi-Wan pushed on. He'd never quite been so scared in his life. When he'd faced Darth Maul, that had been a terrible day, and he'd been so afraid, but determined. He'd gotten away with his master before Qui-Gon had succumbed to his wounds. When Kalin had died, and indeed all the other Jedi, Obi-Wan had felt almost numb at first before his world had shattered. But he'd survived, determined to retrieve his padawan's body, determined to find other survivors. Now, he wasn't sure he had anything else to live for, and this was one opponent that would show absolutely no mercy. This creature had crawled up out of hell to destroy him.

The Jedi looked back just in time to see Vader's lightsaber sailing towards him. He jumped out of the way, onto another still conveyer belt, once again getting a burn on his leg. It hurt, but it was not life threatening, so he pushed himself further.

There was something he had to live for, he realized when he spun around to block Vader's thrust towards his middle. The Chosen One. Qui-Gon had said that it was his duty to help the Chosen One, to train him, to defeat Vader. But how could he do that if Vader killed him? No, no, he had to live through this. He had to escape. The Chosen One was still on Geonosis somewhere and no doubt once the Sith was done with him, he would go after the other.

Blocking, parrying, thrusting, Obi-Wan's hands were nothing but a blur. He wasn't sure he'd even moved so fast in his life, but he had to in order to contend with Vader. There were moments when he would get burned and nicked by the crimson blade, but the Jedi tried not to think about the pain. It would not help him, and he needed full concentration when it came to this black monster.

When Vader suddenly kicked him in the stomach, Obi-Wan was knocked off his feet and sent flying backwards. He had only a moment to regain his sense and breath before the Sith was all over him again. Somehow, even Obi-Wan didn't know, he managed to get back to his feet and jump backwards just as the Sith stab downwards for the fatal blow.

Unable to contain himself, to stop the anguish, the young Jedi cried out, "Why?" His plead echoed across the foundry, bouncing off the rusting machinery.

Vader didn't stop his attack, and continued pressing Obi-Wan until he nearly out of room to run. He was being cornered, but could do nothing about it. It was very likely he would die here. Vader knew that. But he still couldn't find it in him to give up.

Lashing out as fast as he could, Obi-Wan made his first offensive move in the duel and managed to make the Sith take a step back. Then, using the Force, leapt once more into the air, up and away from the Sith. The moment his feet hit the ground, he was running. But he didn't get far.

Something hit him from behind. Hard. Obi-Wan was nearly knocked off his feet, and pain exploded in his back, but he staggered forward. Then again, something hit him, knocking into his head, and this time, the Jedi did lose his balance.

Laying panting, wheezing, head spinning, Obi-Wan groaned in agony, but couldn't bring himself to move just yet. When he finally thought he could, he managed to pick his head up to see Vader slowly advancing towards him. He'd thrown machinery at him, knocking him off his feet. But it couldn't end like this.

Pushing himself up, Obi-Wan got to his feet, and raised his saber, amazed and pleased that he'd managed to keep hold of it. Vader was still calmly approaching, taking his time. It was unnerving, but apparently the Sith knew as well that his prey could not get away from him. There was no need to hurry. Obi-Wan was doomed.

It was his final stand, he knew, but the young Jedi hoped to make it worthwhile. He was no coward and he would show Darth Vader that as well. Not that he thought it would make a difference to the creature. So it was that the Sith brought his lightsaber down with all his might, Obi-Wan meeting it in a block. But it was his final act. The moment their 'sabers met, Obi-Wan felt his arm give, the bone splintering.

Crying out in agony, the Jedi felt to his knees, his lightsaber clattering to the ground. He looked up into the pitiless mask of the Sith Lord, and couldn't help the sorrow that enveloped him. He'd failed. Again. Why had he even bothered to hope? He'd let everyone down yet again.

"Why?" he whispered again, cradling his arm to his chest, not bothering to try and get away while the Sith stood over him.

"Because you deserve to die," Vader replied calmly, kicking the Jedi's lightsaber away.

Tears burned in Obi-Wan's eyes as he shook his head in confusion. "But why?" he gasped. "What have we ever done?"

"You exist," the Sith said emotionlessly. "That is enough."

"But…But why?" He was going into shock, and his mind simply could not wrap itself around why this was happening to him. How could anyone be so merciless?

It was a wonder that Vader was even humoring him at all. But there was more to all this than simple hate. Obi-Wan could feel it. "Because of what you've done to me!" the creature snarled.

"I…we've never done anything to you," the Knight stammered, flinching at the hatred wafting off the Sith. "We never even knew you existed until your attack on the Jedi Temple!"

Now it was Vader's turn to be surprised. Obi-Wan wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. "Lies!" Vader spat, swinging his lightsaber down to end his prey. But somehow, even injured as he was, the Jedi managed to roll out of the way just in time, and called his lightsaber to his good hand.

"It's true!" he cried. "Whatever happened to you, it wasn't the Jedi!" Even though he still didn't understand what Vader meant, Obi-Wan knew that this might be what he needed to buy time.

"It was a Jedi that tried to kill me!" Vader roared, not in the mood to listen, but the other knew he had to keep going.

"No! Not before _you _killed all those at the Temple!" He staggered backwards helplessly, even as Vader stalked forward furiously. "It would have been public information, a warning to all Jedi, if they'd discovered another Sith!"

"Shut up!" the creature snapped. "You're _lying_! I _know_ Dooku was a Jedi!"

Suddenly everything clicked together, and Obi-Wan could see the pieces of a horrible, nightmarish puzzle beginning to fit together. "No," she shook his head again, now pressed up against a wall. "No, Dooku was dispelled from the Jedi Order nearly eight years ago."

For the first time since being introduced to the Sith, Vader paused. Whatever the reason, hearing this was of great importance to him, and even though Obi-Wan was not entirely sure why, he knew that whatever he said would change the course of fate. "Lies," Vader hissed, his voice low.

Obi-Wan felt his throat tighten and close shut, but struggled on. "It's true!" he gasped. "Count Dooku…left eight years…ago. He…he be-trayed the Je…Jedi."

"No, you're lying!" Vader screamed.

"Am…not," the Knight fought against the Force choke, the edges of his vision turning black. "Left… A Dark…Jedi or…a…Sith."

"NO!"

Pieces of equipment went flying about the room in Vader's rage. The hatred coming from the Sith redoubled and almost became visible. Never before had Obi-Wan witnessed such an awe-inspiring sight. A horribly fascinating sight. The whole room was in motion, surging and flying at Vader's uncontrolled power. The Jedi had never believed such power could even exist in one being.

"NO!" he screamed again.

Just when the Knight felt his eyes start to roll back in his head, he found himself on his knees, and gasping in air. Vader had…let him go? After several minutes of coughing, sputtering for air, Obi-Wan finally managed to look up.

Vader was just standing there, hands balled up into fists as everything around him was spinning out of control, smashing into walls, machinery, other pieces of floating debris. Something was happening within the Sith. There was a moment when he almost believed he felt…Light.

But that was impossible! Darth Vader was wholly and completely a creature of Darkness! Yet even in his weaken and beaten state, Obi-Wan could feel a slim essence of Light emanating from the creature before him. It was battling the Darkness. So much chaos swirled around and within the Sith, that it overwhelmed the kneeling Jedi. So much cacophonous confusion. It was truly a wonder the wretched creature hadn't been torn apart.

And then the monster before him did something Obi-Wan would have never expected: he fell. With a resounding thud, Vader fell to his knees. Large, gauntleted hands reached up and grabbed at the side of his helmeted head. His head began shaking, almost as if in denial. What was happening here? What was wrong with this creature of Darkness? He was in pain. Darth Vader was in great and terrible pain.

Against all logic, Obi-Wan felt compassion for the thing before him. All of the old masters had said that the Dark Side was a path to suffering. Never before had the young Jedi seen it so acutely in any creature as he did that moment with Vader. What sort of torture had this being been through? How horribly twisted had he become because of the Dark Side?

For a moment, the two sat near one another, the Jedi and the Sith, one injured physically, the other mentally. Even though he was wary, Obi-Wan knew that there was more to this than just his fight, just his words. Something had been stewing in this creature for some time and had finally broken.

"Get out."

The low words were nearly inaudible, but they drew the Knight's attention instantly. Had he heard correctly? He didn't make a move, however.

That was a mistake. Lightsaber suddenly ignited once more, Vader made a sloppy, desperate slash towards him. The Jedi rolled away on instinct and was on his feet. He nearly fell again, as pain radiated through him. But he did not dare. The room was still a war zone, objects being toss across the room by the Force, even as Vader sat on his knees.

"GET OUT!" the Sith bellowed.

So much pain and confusion in his voice, it nearly broke Obi-Wan's heart. But he didn't dare disobey. This was his chance and he had to take it. As fast as he was able, cradling his broken arm, the Jedi ran for his life, out of the factory and to his ship. Within minutes, he was away.

He sat back in absolute shock. He had survived an encounter with Darth Vader. He had to contact the others.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Vader's POV next time, so maybe this will be a little clearer.

And thanks again everyone for the wonderful reviews I've been getting from all around the world! Just goes to show, stories can cross all boarders. :)


	20. Chapter 20: Hidden Truths

**Chapter Twenty: Hidden Truths **

There were some real advantages to having lived nearly nine-hundred years, but more recently, Yoda was finding that coming from a race of such long-lived peoples was more of a curse. True, he'd seen the rise and splendor of the Jedi, had seen more remarkable things in his life than perhaps any other being left in the galaxy, and made more friends than anyone could possibly imagine. But such longevity worked two ways. He also saw horrible, horrible things. Especially with his life as a Jedi, he'd seen wars, plagues, famine, corruption, and enslavement. He'd had to sit by and watched friends suffer, die, become twisted beyond recognition. Through it all, however, he'd taken it in stride, trusting in the Force.

Until several years ago. The destruction of the Jedi Temple was something that he had neither foreseen, nor indeed thought possible. He had helped build up the Temple, and been with it from its infancy in the jungle to its rise and splendor in the technological jungle that was now Coruscant. For hundreds of years he'd watched some of the most powerful people in the galaxy come to power and then witness their light fade into the Force. He'd been padawan, friend, and master to so many, he had almost become indistinguishable from the Jedi Temple itself. Its destruction…

It had wounded Yoda more than anything else ever had, even after nearly nine-hundred years of life. All the lives extinguished for no reason. At one point, he believed learning of his former padawan's betrayal of the Republic and turning to the Dark Side would be his deepest wound of this century. How wrong he was. How very, very wrong.

The attack was unexpected, and its commander even more so. Yoda had not been at the Temple at the time, but he'd felt everything going on, had felt the galaxy-wide slaughter of his kin in the Force. It was as though the Darkness had so suddenly fallen on everything in that moment, crashing down on the galaxy with such completeness that it was hard to image there ever being light again. And it was all because of Darth Vader.

Never before had Yoda felt of such a powerful being, not even after his long life. He had watched many Sith come into the world, but they had all be defeated one way or another, all squabbling for power. But it appeared it was not so with Sidious and Vader. The two had been quiet, deceitful, and cruelly efficient. The Grand Master had never quite heard of Sith working together so well before. Apparently Sidious had learned the art of effective padawan-training since the two that he'd had that Yoda had heard of appeared completely loyal. The thought was terrifying.

Sidious was the master mind in all of this, the instigator. It was bad enough to know that the Jedi had all been deceived by who they had believed was a mere senator from Naboo. The plans of the Sith that Yoda now saw in hindsight were brilliant. They had been set up so perfectly, it was as easy as fitting the final pieces into a puzzle. He had been patient, watchful, and ever opportunistic, even twisting Dooku in order to gain information from the Jedi.

But Sidious could never have succeeded, especially in the plot to destroy the Jedi, without his apprentice. But where the older Sith was hard to understand, and his history was obscure, though traceable, Vader's was nonexistent. The part of the brilliance of the Sith plot was its unexpectedness, and Darth Vader was certainly unexpected. Even nearly on the Outer Rim, Vader's presence in the Force was strong. Very strong. He was like a beacon of death, casting a shadow of hopelessness on everything. Where his master was cunning, Vader was a juggernaut that utterly crushed all in his path. It had been Vader to destroy the Jedi, even if it was his master's plan, and it would be Vader who destroyed the Emperor and took control of the galaxy, for that was the Sith way.

Yoda feared when that day would come. He had meditated long on the subject of the creature that had come to be beside the Emperor and nothing he'd concluded was good. Vader was strong in the Force, probably even more than Yoda could tell, since he could only sense him from a distance. But the other Sith radiated raw power and potential, even now. It was this that scared Yoda. Even after destroying the Jedi, there seemed to be yet more greatness awaiting Vader. Truly frightening indeed.

But recently, the ancient Jedi had been getting strange disturbances in the Force. The worst being the night Obi-Wan had called Bail Organa to meet him. This frightened the green master as well. Obi-Wan was among the last of the Jedi left in the galaxy. Bail had said Obi-Wan did not look well, which was a cause of concern. Connecting the other Jedi's sudden call with the Force explosion he'd felt…Yes, it was certainly a cause for concern.

Something strange and powerful was happening in the Force now. It had been subtle, so subtle that Yoda had only been made aware of it several weeks ago, but it had slowly trickled into an explosion. The Light was fighting back. It made little sense to the Grand Master, but it was, even without the help of the Jedi. There was something very powerful pushing against the Darkness, and even though the galaxy was still shrouded in Darkness, there was still Light. There was still something fighting the evil in the world. It was almost too painful to hope. He doubted that either Vader or the Emperor would allow this Light to continue.

"We're almost to Mimban," Bail announced, taking the old Jedi from his thoughts. "Obi-Wan is also approaching."

"Hmm," Yoda hummed in thought, reaching out with the Force to the other Jedi. "Hurt, he is. Medical attention he will require."

The senator nodded. "I've already got my best healer standing by, and the medical droids are on and waiting."

It was good to have Bail here. The young senator had done more than his fair share of work for the rebellion and the remaining Jedi. Without Bail Organa, Yoda wasn't sure that the rebellion would be half of what it was. He was running a terrible risk, but the human was brave and did not back down, even when fear was evident in him. Truly, had he been Force-sensitive, Organa would have made a fine Jedi.

The pilot announced that Obi-Wan's ship had been brought on board, and when it was secure, they felt the jump to lightspeed again. It was dangerous to stay in one place too long, but Mimban especially since the Empire had a mining colony there. It had been rather foolish, but it was the closes planet half way between Alderaan and Geonosis to pick up Obi-Wan. They didn't dare trust anyone else with the Knight's care.

And so after waiting in the medical bay for several minutes, not wanting to be in the way when they brought the younger Jedi in, the doors burst open with several men carrying Obi-Wan in on a stretcher, while the healer hovered over him, calling out orders. Immediately, the droids leapt to life and went to work. Yoda and Bail stood back, watching. With a quick scan of the Force, Yoda knew that Obi-Wan was not in a life-threating condition. He was perhaps feverish, but was not going to die from whatever happened to him.

Unable to stay put, Yoda hopped onto the bed next to his former student, and gazed down dejectedly at the young man. Truly, Obi-Wan was too young to have all the heartache he now carried with him. Sadly, the small, green hand brushed the stray blonde hair out of the Knight's face, glad, at least, that Qui-Gon wasn't here to see how poorly his former apprentice looked. Qui-Gon had always been rather protective of Obi-Wan, and usually frightened the medical staff into giving his padawan the best care possible. All healers had dreaded when Obi-Wan was injured, because his master would no doubt come to terrorize them all.

A fond memory. In these dark times, it was easier to live through it by remembering the good. It helped him see the positivity in the moment. Obi-Wan was alive now and in good hands. That was all that mattered.

Cloudy blue-grey eyes snapped open, startling the old master for a moment. He had not thought the younger Jedi conscious. "Master," he croaked, trying to sit up.

"Lay back down!" the healer snapped. "You're in no shape to be sitting up just yet."

Obi-Wan frowned, looking about him, before his eyes fell on Bail. "You came?"

"Of course, my friend," the senator smiled. "I would never abandon you."

The younger man smiled back in a delirious sort of fashion, before wincing. "I can't feel my arm."

"That's because it's broken," the healer explained as she and the droids finished applying bacta to the cuts and burns that littered the Jedi's body. "I can give you something for the pain now, but we'll have to operate. Soon."

The blonde nodded his head sluggishly, before meeting Yoda's eyes again. "Master," he said again, becoming more serious. "I have news from Geonosis."

It dismayed the old master that even now, so injured and in pain, that the young man had to think about duty before himself. Whatever happened to Obi-Wan had obviously been terrible, but the news he had brought no doubt valuable. It could be of the gravest importance that he be allowed to speak now, because one never knew how much time could be spent stalling. It was sad that they would have to question him now, lest they lose what precious time was left.

"Yes, Obi-Wan," Yoda nodded. "Speak."

"What happened to you?" Bail asked, pity ringing clear in his voice.

Obi-Wan sobered immediately, even as the healer could be heard preparing for surgery. "I dueled with Darth Vader."

The room fell into a shocked silence, even the healer pausing as she'd heard his words. While the Force rang with the truth of the situation, Yoda found he could not quite believe it. Vader? Obi-Wan had fought _Vader_? How was that possible? No Jedi had faced the Sith Lord and made it out alive. The Force was swirling in agitation about him, and he knew that something important was going on here and in the greater galaxy.

"What?!" Bail was the first to come out of his stunned silence. "Obi-Wan, my friend, I think you're still a little feverish —"

"No!" the Knight snapped, narrowing his eyes in frustration. "I fought him. I…It was…"

Confusion and pain over the memory haunted those usually bright eyes, and Yoda felt a stab of regret that this young man was once again so hurt. It was hard enough to have watched friends and loved ones die, but to _survive _it all, to be so hunted as they were…death was almost a kinder fate. It begged the question of how much they had to suffer before the Force was through with them.

"Survived an attack by Vader?" Yoda questioned, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Yes," the other Jedi nodded.

"How did you escape?" the senator asked, leaning forward.

A humorless smile came to Obi-Wan's lips as he stared up at the ceiling. If the Force hadn't told Yoda that the young man was still fully lucid, he might have thought the medication was clouding the Knight's mind. "That's the question, isn't it?" He gave a sullen laugh. "He let me go."

Again, the room when silent. "Vader?" Bail's skepticism was quite clear.

"Yes," Obi-Wan answered.

"Darth Vader? Dark Lord of the Sith? The Slayer of the Jedi? The Emperor's Right hand? The creature that never leaves _any _Force-sensitive alive, Vader?"

While Yoda could understand the senator's shock and cynicism, even shared it to a degree, it was not doing Obi-Wan any good to have these doubts thrown at him. "I'm not lying, Bail," the Knight snapped. "He let me go."

"But…But _why_?!"

The younger man turned his head away to stare up at the ceiling once more. Yoda could detect his confusion and fear, but more curiously, he could sense melancholy. Pity. Why would the young Jedi feel this way?

"Kenobi?" he said sternly, catching the other Jedi's attention with the command. "More to this than you have said. Tell your tale from the beginning you must."

Obi-Wan appeared thoughtful, even hesitant, before he sighed. "Months ago I began picking up small changes in the Force."

The green master nodded. "Contacted me, you did."

"Yes," he nodded. "And over a week ago, when I was scouting out another planet on Bail's list, I was…_visited_ by an old friend that told me I would meet someone very important to the rebellion, to the Jedi, and indeed the galaxy."

The senator's eyes brightened considerably. "Who?"

Again, it was strange to see Obi-Wan hesitate. Usually the young man was eager to give any and all information that he knew. Whatever it was he was thinking, Obi-Wan was either unsure of its truth or afraid he would be doubted. Yoda betted on the latter.

"The Chosen One," he finally admitted.

Bail frowned even as Yoda's eyes widened. The Chosen One? Could it be? The Force explosion that he'd felt…had it been in connection with the legendary Bringer of Balance?

"Who told you this?" Yoda pressed, a hope growing in him with alarming speed. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, but it was hard not to. After so much evil that had befallen the galaxy, it was certainly high time for good!

Taking a deep breath, the younger Jedi answered. "Master Qui-Gon."

Yoda flinched. "But…Master Jinn died ten years ago," the senator stated carefully.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said sadly. "But he came back as a Force Ghost to help me."

It was clear that the older human believed the pain had finally gotten to his friend, and his doubt and concern radiated about the room. But Yoda knew better. It was not unheard of, the possibility of a Force Ghost, but the green master had yet to have heard of anyone succeeding in it. Perhaps all of Qui-Gon's outrageous theories and beliefs were not all so farfetched as many had previously thought.

"What tell you, did Qui-Gon?"

Relief skittered around them as Obi-Wan realized he wasn't going to be dismissed. "He told me that the Chosen One was coming soon and would defeat the Emperor." He paused. "He also told me that I was to help him when it came time to defeat Vader. That…that the Chosen One could not defeat Vader alone."

Turning over the information in his head, the Grand Master nodded. A part of him was surprised that Qui-Gon had not come to him with this. Surely it would be prudent for the Grand Master of the Jedi Order to be involved with the training of the Chosen One? Or at least in guidance? But then, Qui-Gon had always been close to Obi-Wan, their connection had probably been why the former Jedi had been able to come back in the first place. The bond of master and apprentice could sometimes go beyond death.

"More to you he said?" Yoda pressed.

The blonde nodded. "He told me that on Geonosis I would meet the Chosen One." A bitter laugh escaped him again. "I went to meet one man, but met another. I failed, Master."

"No," Yoda said firmly, dismayed for his former pupil. "Fail, you did not. Come out stronger, you have."

Confusion once again wrapped itself around the Knight's mind as he thought of the events that had happened to him recently. It was obvious he had ideas about something, maybe even theories, but he was not sharing them. Maybe because he was concerned he was delirious from the pain?

"Master," he began slowly, even as the healer was now frowning at them, wanting to perform surgery. "There is something…terribly wrong with Vader."

Even as Bail looked hopeful, Yoda nodded gravely, sending encouragement to the other Jedi. "Wrong?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded as best as he could. "He…I only got away because he _let _me," he stressed again. "He could have, _should _have, killed me, Master. He had me cornered. He was standing over me, ready to kill…but didn't. I didn't even land a strike on him, but…"

"But?" he pressed gently. This memory was obviously hard for Obi-Wan to talk about, more so because of the confusion it brought to him. Even while Yoda was painfully curious, he did not want to push the Knight too far. This had to take time, even if time was something they didn't really have.

"But, I think I did hurt him," he said quietly. Again, there was a great wave of pity coming from Obi-Wan. It startled Yoda. Was he actually feeling _sorry _for Vader? The creature that had hurt them all so terribly? There was obviously more going on here then what met the eye.

"I asked him—even though I don't know how I was able to ask him, as I would never do it now—I asked him why he was doing this…why he did this to the Jedi—" Yoda's eyes grew large at his pupil's audacity, and he could feel Bail's surprise as well, but the younger man went on, "—and he told me that he did it because the Jedi hurt him.

"'No,' I told him. 'We've never done anything to you. We didn't even know you existed before.' But he told me I was lying and that Count Dooku had hurt him."

"Dooku?" Yoda was taken aback by hearing the name. Sorrow filled him at the thought of yet another aspect of his padawan's betrayal.

"What? What does he have to do with anything?" Bail frowned.

"Sirs, I think I should really get him into the operating room now," the healer stated forcefully. "This has to be dealt with quickly."

"He thought Dooku was a Jedi," Obi-Wan blurted, lifting his head so that he could look into Yoda's eyes, as though he could make the other understand. "He didn't know about Dooku. When I told him that Dooku betrayed the Order, he…didn't take it well."

"Lay back," the healer gently pushed the blonde's head down. "You need to rest."

Yoda regarded the younger man thoughtfully, trying to understand why this was so relevant. What did this have to do with anything? Why would Vader care if Dooku had been Jedi or Sith? This was the lifestyle he'd chosen to live. Why would he care so long as he got his revenge? It didn't make sense. Perhaps Sidious hid Dooku's allegiances, but Vader should have expected such treachery. It was in his own nature as well to lie. It was the Sith way.

"So he let you go after that?" Bail frowned. "Just because you told him the truth?"

"Gentlemen. _Please_," the healer snapped, as she began shooing them away from her patient.

Still desperate to make them understand, Obi-Wan sat up again, "He broke down!" he called. "He just…it was like…he shattered. It was like something finally snapped. He was so distraught he didn't even want to finish me, he just wanted me gone. He—"

But by then the healer had managed to coral them out and shut the door in the faces of the former Grand Master of the Jedi Council and a noted Galactic Senator, as if they were nothing. On the inside, they could hear the woman all but yelling at Obi-Wan to lie back down and not move. Yoda had to wonder how she'd managed this long as a healer with such a terrible bedside manner. She left much to be desired.

As if reading his thoughts, Bail smiled humorlessly. "She's a pain, but she's the best. That's why I brought her."

The old Jedi snorted. "Impatient, she is."

"I suppose," the senator sighed in acknowledgement. "But what can you do? It's a safe bet she'd the only one on board that could fix that arm of his."

"Troubling this is," Yoda murmured after a silence. "Meditate, I shall. Confusing and alarming Obi-Wan's report was."

The human nodded, "I agree. I'll see if I can get in touch with our contacts on Naboo. We should land there in several days' time." Yoda didn't respond but hobbled off to his chamber to think over what had happened.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to think of all the clues that had been left for him to figure out. The future was still very much clouded by the Dark Side, but there was still a small sliver of hope that burned within him at the mention of the Chosen One. Could it be? After one thousand years, the Chosen One had finally come into the galaxy? It was a heartening thought.

But one that didn't exactly make sense. Having made it to his room, Yoda went in and sat down near the window, watching the stars streak by. If the Chosen One was really coming forward, wouldn't Yoda have been able to feel it? He'd like to think that he would as his connection to the Force was certainly not weak. By why hadn't he? From what Obi-Wan had said, the Chosen One couldn't have been a child, could he? It was possible. It sounded as though the Chosen One needed training, but then he could also be an adult left untrained.

If he were an adult, then why hadn't he been brought to the Jedi's notice sooner? Maybe he'd come from an Outer Rim world? That would explain why Yoda wouldn't have felt him, and why he still didn't feel him if he was on Geonosis. But Obi-Wan's story brought so many more questions up than just this.

Yoda had _felt _a struggle between Darkness and Light. It made sense that this occurred around the time of Obi-Wan's presence on Geonosis. So did that mean the Chosen One had encountered and engaged Vader? Not when Obi-Wan had been there, at least, but perhaps after? But then, Obi-Wan had said Vader had, for whatever reason, broken down. If that were true, he would not have been able to engage anyone, at least not efficiently. There had been no sense of death, so at least he knew the Chosen One wasn't dead, but did that mean the Chosen One had lost his first encounter with the Sith? Assuming one happened?

Sighing, the ancient Jedi shook his head tiredly. He was missing something, some valuable piece of information that perhaps Obi-Wan could give clues to, but could not for the time being. There was something strange at work. Something was off. The balance was shifting, but it was hard to know where it would eventually settle.

One way or the other, however, Yoda knew that Darth Vader would be at the center of it all.

**oOoOoOo**

It took longer for Padmé to come to terms with how she felt about what the Emperor had told her, and she'd come to the conclusion that she just didn't know how to feel. What the Emperor had said…well, it sounded all too much like Vader to be comfortable. Vader wasn't the sort of person that spoke all that much, and he definitely wasn't one to go out of his way to make anyone feel better. He was still the same, cruel bastard she'd met nearly half a year ago. He hadn't changed.

But that wasn't true. He _had _changed, at least a little. She'd seen a side of him that no one else probably ever had. A side that many probably didn't even know existed. In most cases, it actually didn't. But she still found herself doubting. Sure he'd done nice things for her. So what? That didn't mean he wasn't just biding his time waiting to kill her.

It hurt. It just all hurt. She should have known that this would happen, shouldn't have let herself get so personally invested in this creature! But she had. She'd started to care for him more than what she would have liked. Though it was hard not to when you were sleeping with the man, for Force sake! When he was with her like that, he was such a different person. It was like he was two totally different people! One was a terrible, cruel Sith Lord, the other…well, she still wasn't even sure what he was then, but he _was _different.

Staring out the window of her room, the young woman had to sigh, not bothering to do anything except watch the traffic outside. Even doing this, however, reminded her of watching it with _him _on the balcony the first time he'd left her to go on a mission. Or even when he drove her to and from work.

Snorting, she couldn't help the frustration that came over her at the thought. It seemed like _everything _reminded her of him. Especially this Force forsaken room! There were too many memories floating around here, too many feelings. Good feelings. Almost…

No. She couldn't do this to herself. She couldn't think of the times they'd shared together. What happened here was nothing more than business transactions. She'd made a deal, he'd accepted, he came to collect payment. It hurt so much to think of those moments like this, but what if it was true? He'd kissed her, but did that mean anything to him? _Could _it mean anything to him? Was it all just a ruse to get under her skin? Was this all some sort of elaborate plot to drive her mad?

But why would he let her talk to her friends? Why would he let her call her family? He had almost seemed…concerned when he'd left. She'd gotten the feeling that he didn't _want _to leave. No, that was not right. He'd been anxious, he'd wanted to get away, but he hadn't wanted to leave _her_. Or so it had felt at the time.

This could all _still _be a ruse. Why would the Emperor lie to her? He didn't have a reason. But then, it was possible that he had. She wouldn't put it past him. He'd lied to her for years before that, and to the entire galaxy. It was more than likely that he would try to deceive her in some way. But _why_? What would he gain from it?

Walking towards her bed, she fell face first into the softness, wondering what to do with herself. She was still so angry. So distraught. She's been so upset today that she'd worked herself up enough to throw up. It had happened before when she was a child, when she was excited over something. That all seemed so trivial compared to what had happened to her now.

A concerned beep brought her out of her self-pity. Sitting up, Padmé pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked over at R2, who was rocking back and forth. "What's wrong, Artoo?" she asked.

The little droid rolled over to the door and then signaled for her to follow. Reluctantly, she stood and made her way out feeling she had no choice but to follow. She had no idea what he could possibly have to show her that wasn't already in her room, but froze when she realized where they were going.

"Artoo!" she hissed. "Are you _crazy_? We can't go in there!"

The droid sent her a cocky sounding beep, before he plugged himself into the wall, opening the door within seconds and rolling inside. Padmé didn't follow, too nervous and frightened. This was crazy! This was nuts! She could _not _do this. But the curiosity was eating her alive. Looking back down the hallway, there was no one. Everything was still. So pushing aside her own drama and fears, she entered into Lord Vader's chambers.

What she saw both troubled her yet didn't surprise her. The room was large, overly so, with little in it. The floors were polished, shining black, and the walls were all black as well. There were no windows. It was almost completely empty save for a large white…something. She didn't even know what to call it. It was just a giant spherical object that looked like it could open up. Was that where he slept?

Walking further in, careful, afraid that there might be some sort of trap, she noticed that there were two doors on opposite ends of the room facing each other. The one she quickly discovered, was a 'fresher. It didn't look like it had ever been used. There were certainly no personal items left behind. Even the medicine cabinet was left empty. Did he use it? Had he ever?

Making her way back into the main section, she realized that in the wall seemed to be some sort of hidden door. Curious, she pressed it, and it immediately opened. Jumping back, she realized that it was a shelving unit of some sort, holding a variety of pads and pieces of electronics, old wires, and even droid gears. She put it back, not wanting to look through anything too extensively, even though she should. She should try and find any and all information she could for the Alliance. But she just didn't feel like it. Despite how angry and confused she was, this still felt like some sort of betrayal on her part. She wished she didn't feel this way.

On the other end of the room, she opened the door to find the control room. She ducked back quickly, before the droid inside could spot her, but an encouraging beep came from within. R2 was connected to the droid and obviously believed she was safe for the time being. Looking in again, she found the droid monitoring all the cams within the wing, and even a few in certain points in the base. So this was where Vader kept himself all the time. It was interesting, but she felt weird spying on everyone else, and so ducked back into the empty room.

With everything else explored, she turned her attention to the white sphere. What was it? Could it really be opened? Why did Vader keep it? There was no bed, so was this really where he slept? She was startled when it began to open, and looked down to see R2 plugged into a socket. Maybe this would help her understand. Maybe this was where Vader hid everything, even his humanity.

Brown eyes widened in hope and anticipation only to dim with disappointment. It was…a chair. A black leather chair surrounded by computers and screens. It was like a mini-command center of some sort. Just as cold and impersonal as everything else about the room.

Anger flooded through Padmé as she took it in. This was one of the richest men in the galaxy, did he own _nothing_? There were no pictures, no mementos, no nothing. Was he even human? She'd thought she'd felt flesh and blood, but now she wasn't so sure. There was nothing here. He was just as cold and heartless as the machines he surrounded himself with.

Maybe she'd been right before. Maybe there was nothing worth caring about in him. She was about to leave, to go drown in her sorrow, when something caught her eye. It was nothing huge, nothing major, but the slight discoloration in the nearly perfectly white sphere grabbed her attention.

Carefully stepping inside, Padmé was blasted with air, cold and crisp. It was cleaner, purer, she realized. Was this something to help him breathe? But her attention remained on the ivory colored piece of something near the main screen. It looked like a stone of some sort, and it was carved.

Picking it up, she ran it through her fingers, wondering at how smooth it was. It almost looked tribal, from a planet so far removed from the 'civilized' center. It was beautiful, and it saddened her to think that it was kept here with a man that had probably killed its owner. It deserved better than to be locked away with a creature that held no respect for it or its people.

With the stone in hand, she stepped out of the chamber and decided she'd had enough exploring. There was nothing here. It was all clean and neutral and completely inhuman. This was Vader's home, and it reflected him well. There was nothing, just as there was nothing in him. She'd been mistaken to think that she should care for him.

Turning, she made her way out, R2 beeping at her, as if calling for her to wait, but she couldn't. She couldn't stand to be in that place. It radiated _his _presence. So instead, she went to her room, sat down on her bed, examining the stone carved with crude shapes and symbols. One the back, she saw something written, so small it could have been mistaken for a blemish of the stone, but as she held it up to her eye, she realized it was a word: Shmi.

Briefly, she wondered what that meant, and where Vader had gotten such a thing. It at least took her mind off of the realization that the man she'd been sleeping with wasn't real.

* * *

**Author's Note: ***Gasp!* More drama! Promise Vader's next.

And sorry for the lateness. Yesterday was real world day filled with excitement and wonder, and today was real world day of talking to friends. You know who you are. ;)

Reviews please? I'd love to hear from you all! Thanks!


	21. Chapter 21: Doubts

**Chapter Twenty-One: Doubts**

Vader took a little longer to return to Coruscant than usual. The event of Geonosis had disturbed him greatly, and he had needed time to think and meditate, before returning to his master and…other things. He was so tired; he'd barely slept or eaten since his failed mission. His _first _failed mission. The shame of it burned, simpering into wild anger deep within his gut.

Siting on the bed in his temporary chambers since there was no hyberbaric chamber, the young Sith tried to meditate. All he could think about, however, was what the Jedi had told him. Count Dooku had not been a Jedi when he'd attacked him. Dooku had turned on the Jedi. Had been a Dark Jedi or a _Sith_. The news should not have impacted him as much as it had. Who cares if he had been seeking revenge all these years and destroyed a group because of a slight misunderstanding? The Sith way was about death and hatred. The Jedi were his natural enemies.

So why did he fell so much…regret? It was like his entire world was falling apart right under his feet. One moment everything was fine, the next…the next he wasn't sure. Ever since sleeping with the senator, he'd had this terrible feeling of confusion that wouldn't leave him. One moment he was fine, everything was as it should be, but the next...the next it was horrible. He was second guessing himself, he was questioning his life, and worse, he was questioning his past.

Padmé had inspired something in him that he would have never thought possible. She had reawakened a part of him that he'd thought died out long, long ago, when he was just a child. Suddenly he cared about more than just himself and the Empire. Suddenly he longed to have the basic needs of life that his master had said were weaknesses. He _wanted _those weaknesses. He _wanted _to feel. He wanted…he wanted a _choice_.

But he couldn't have a choice. Not with the Emperor alive. Being with the senator had given him a taste of freedom, a freedom he didn't know he'd craved. She'd opened his eyes and his mind to other possibilities that he would have scoffed at months ago. But most disparagingly true of all was the simple fact that she'd given him _hope_.

Hope. Vader had not had that for many years. It had been beaten out of him as a very young child. In the beginning, he'd numbly waited for the day someone would come and rescue him, would deliver him from torment. It hadn't come. When he was older, he'd hope to escape on his own. It hadn't happened. When he grew into a teenager, he'd hoped he would overpower his master, and then there came the accident…

No, this new hope was not like the last he'd harbored. This hope that Padmé had kindled within him was a hope for something better, something that was not painful. It felt like the sort of hope he might have felt like before he'd been taken in by Sidious, when he'd been a child. True, he did not remember much of his time before the Sith, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that even having been a slave, he'd been better off than he was now. He'd been happy. Like when he was with Padmé.

It was useless to resist, he had to admit it. He liked her. He was happy with her, even when she was annoying the hell out of him. Just being near her was…intoxicating. Especially right before he'd left. She gave him a peace unlike any he'd ever experienced before when he was with her. And while that peace never lasted long, and the world would come crashing back down on him, reminding him that life was hardly worth living, for just a few minutes, he was _free_.

But even the thought of her could not calm him at the moment. All he could do was sit brooding about what he'd learned from the Jedi. It really shouldn't bother him. His master lied to him all the time, nothing had changed. But it _had_. With even his tiniest tastes of freedom, it made Vader wonder just how _much _his master had lied to him about?

For nearly four years Vader had been trapped inside this life support suit, in pain and anger, all because of Count Dooku. His master had said Dooku was a Jedi and had to be destroyed. He'd done so, only at a great price.

Vader had been so young, inexperienced in fighting Jedi of any sort. His battle with Dooku could have been his last, and nearly had been when the kriffing man cut off his arm and stabbed him in the chest, puncturing his lung. There had been other flesh wounds as neither he nor Dooku had held back, but Vader had survived. The factory they had fought in had been toxic and hot, and they had been lucky neither had completely fallen into a pit of liquefied metal. Vader could just recall nearly falling in, but he'd by then, managed to get grip around Dooku's innards with the Force, and tore the man open before decapitating him. After that, he remembered little as he struggled to communicate with someone, barely managed to stay awake until they arrived. The next thing he could recall was being in surgery and waking up in this accursed suit.

He'd been given a list of all his injuries, but he couldn't quite remember getting any save the arm and the lung injury. Everything else had seemed so minor to him, but they apparently were more severe than he'd thought back then, especially his head would from when Dooku had apparently slammed him into a boiling vat that had given him third degree burns after only a second or two of contact and cracked his skull. His master had come and saved his life, given him a new arm, and supplied a suit that would help him breathe and heal, saying that it would not be long before he could be rid of it. And like a fool, Vader had believed him, only have the satisfaction that he'd been able to kill the bastard that had done this to him.

It hadn't been enough, however. Never before had Vader fallen into a rage so completely. It was truly then that Darth Vader had been born, born because he'd had absolutely no hope left save in his master.

But what if he was wrong? Sidious had said it would take a while for his lungs and other injuries to properly heal. Vader even knew that his master liked him in the suit for the appearance it gave. It was intimidating and hid the fact that he was so young from the world and forced them to respect him. Yet even Vader, with his limited knowledge of healing, knew that he should not have had to be in this suit for so long. It made him wonder if his master had, for the first two years, been hindering his recovery? Even if just slightly? The last year he had taken over the medical droids himself, becoming impatient, and had recovered more rapidly. The burn to his head hadn't seemed so severe but he was actually growing his hair back, and his lungs were repaired now, thanks to the medical droids he'd programed himself.

Now, the only reminder left of that horrible battle was his arm. His piece of shit arm. Even Vader knew the technology used for it had been outdated at the time it was attached to him, but he hadn't had much choice then. He had been glad to have _something _there. But now he knew that it hadn't even been surgically attached correctly. It hurt him, pinching the skin of his upper arm. Sometimes it bled, and the metal was so heavy. It had taken him months before his fighting style was back to peak efficiency, working with his new appendage as well as his other injuries.

In those months he'd festered in anger, sorrow, and rage. The attack on the Jedi Temple had been his release, the true revealing of Darth Vader. He hadn't held back and slaughtered anyone in his way. He'd never stopped to think about how easy it had been compared to his fight with Dooku. Thinking about it now, he recalled it had feltdifferent. Vader had been so eager to destroy his first Jedi with Dooku that he hadn't realized that the other had been calling on the powers of the Dark Side. The other Jedi he'd fought had not. They had been just as desperate, but their attacks weren't quiet as…overwhelming as Dooku's had been. He'd never really pondered on it before, even though he'd had all the information. But now he knew the truth:

Dooku was a Dark Sider.

So what? Who cares if Dooku had been some sort of Dark Jedi or even a wannabe Sith Lord? Who cares if Dooku had actually been one of his master's old apprentices? Or if his master had pitted them against each other to see who was the strongest? Who _cares_? This was the Sith way. Vader had always planned on killing his master eventually and knew that there was a great possibility of his master plotting the same.

So why did this bother him as much as it did? Why was he still plagued with nightmares about the children he'd slaughtered? Why could he see the faces of all his victims? Why did it tear at his heart to think about two pairs of brown eyes staring at him in horror and revulsion?

_Because he's not really gone_, a voice whispered inside of his mind. _The boy. He's the one who has nightmares. Not you. Neither you nor the Emperor have fully slain him_.

"Impossible," Vader muttered. "The boy is _dead_."

_No_, the voice became stronger. _No he's not. He's alive, and has been watching in silence all these years at the terror you've introduced into the galaxy. Watching but unable to speak._

"No," he hissed, shaking his head. This was just like back at the droid foundry with that Jedi! That infernal voice was whisper doubt to him. Making him question everything he'd ever done in his life. "Shut up, you're _lying_!" he snarled.

_Search your feelings, _it said more clearly this time. _You know what I'm saying is true. _

"But it's _impossible_! He's dead!"

_He's not dead. At least not yet. _

"How do you know?" Vader growled. "I've killed everyone else, why not him?"

_Because _I'm _him_. Vader sat up straighter, panic suddenly coursing through him. _You haven't killed me. I've always been here. You just never wanted to see before. _

This was not possible. This could not be happening. After years of training, years of work, he had not been able to rid himself of the disease that was his former self? He hadn't been able to kill a pathetic child? He began shaking, unable to stop himself. It was happening again. He couldn't breathe and he was having a panic attack as the guilt over everything he'd ever done came surging up from the bowls of his soul, out of the shadows now displayed for him in the light.

"Stop," he gasped. Already, what few objects there were in the room were floating. "Stop," he begged. He couldn't take it! Couldn't take this guilt.

_Why?_ the voice asked pitilessly. _Why should I spare you after you would not spare others? You did this to yourself, and you've damned me along with you._

Struggling, fumbling, Vader tore off his mask and helmet, trying to breathe before he ended up destroying more than just his room. It didn't help, however. He still felt his chest constrict and he couldn't stop the terror. All those innocent faces he'd destroyed came rushing before him, taunting him. He couldn't stop remembering how the Jedi children tried to run from him, a few trying to fight him in hopes that their friends could get away. Such selflessness at such a young age. But it hadn't stopped him. He'd crushed them the same as he had the adults. No mercy, no pity. Just thinking of it now chilled him to the bone.

How could he have done that? How could he have attacked those that hadn't done anything to him? And not just the Jedi, but everyone else? The planets he'd set waste to, the innocent he'd murdered simply because they were in his way? And for what purpose? To please his master, the man who had nearly ordered Vader's execution by the hand of Dooku?

Was he really bringing order to the galaxy? He used to think so, but now…now he didn't think so. He had created chaos in order to bring peace, but it did not work that way. He was beginning to see that now. Padmé had been right. She'd been right about everything.

_Listen to her! _the voice cried desperately. _Let her help you! Let her help _us_. _

"I…I can't," Vader whispered, though he felt a bit calmer. "No one can help us now. We're—"

_It's not too late! _the voice insisted. _You didn't destroy me. You couldn't. There's hope! Cling to it! Cling to _me_! _

Vader hesitated. He didn't like this. He didn't think he could do this. But the alternative was to allow himself to be eaten away with guilt and be unable to control himself. Maybe he could try. This wasn't a commitment, not yet. Perhaps he could play with the idea a while longer? Maybe there was hope for him yet. He would wait and see, but for now…

Now he had to turn his mind towards business. Even after lengthy mediations and staying up to debate with himself, he could sense that they had arrived back to Coruscant. Immediately his mind opened up his impenetrable shielding and stretched out to the senator. She was still there and safe. Checking on his master, the Emperor seemed to be the same as always, though Vader didn't trust this brief assessment. Just when he'd left Coruscant for his failed mission, and even sometimes later, he could feel his master trying to break through his shields, probing. It hadn't exactly felt direct, but it had been annoying, and unneeded.

He didn't know what that was all about, not exactly. His master had been suspicious of him lately, but why would he try to probe his mind when he was so far away? What faith did he have of success? It didn't make sense, but it told Vader one thing: It told him that he would not be seeing his master tonight.

After a quick calculation, the Sith knew that it was late in the evening on Coruscant. His master didn't sleep, but Vader would wait for his report until the morning. Right now he was exhausted, and he just wanted to go back to his own room for peace. He didn't want to think anymore.

Just as he was about to walk out after putting on his helmet and mask, the door chimed. Frowning, Vader opened it and found himself met with an unexpected familiar face. It was the young cadet that had been sent to him on Despayre to inform him of Captain Oquier. He'd forgotten since his attack on the Jedi that this was the same ship as the last time. The commanding officers must have been sent this one because he'd actually come back alive the last time he'd delivered information. The sacrificial lamb, so to speak.

"Sir," the cadet snapped to attention, his face the picture of composure. "My apologies for interrupting you, Sir, but we'll be docking over Coruscant in several minutes."

The cadet looked only slightly younger than Vader himself, and for some reason, perhaps due to exhaustion, the Sith found himself studying the young man, wanting to know more. This man gave off an aura of control and respect. Vader liked that. "What is your name, Cadet?" he asked.

The young man's emotions spiked in fear, but it did not show on his face. At all. Truly he was disciplined. "Sir, Cadet Firmus Piett, Sir!"

Piett. He would have to remember that. Maybe he would get the young man transferred to work with his staff. There was such potential radiating off of this one, it would be a waste should anything happen to him. "Very well, Cadet Piett," Vader nodded, before turning and walking away, not bothering to wait for the obviously relieved young man.

When he got to the hanger bay and piloted a shuttle down through the traffic and into his own hanger, Vader had never felt more relieved in his life. Even though he knew it would solving nothing, he leaned back in his chair, sighing, letting his head fall back against the headrest not wanting to get out. He didn't want to have to face the world. Not yet. When he went out there he would have to be confronted with responsibilities he had, with the guilt of all he'd done and what he had yet to do. Here in the shuttle, when he flew, he was safe. It was the only time he was free. Other than when he was with the senator. But she was part of his confusion, and he just wanted to be away from everyone and rest.

But he was only stalling the inevitable and that would not do. Vader was many things, but a coward was not one of them. So, blocking out everything, he disembarked from the shuttle, hoping that perhaps his confusing, traitorous thoughts might leave him when he was safely secured in his chambers. When he looked out, however, he knew that that anything resembling calm would not come to him this night.

Waiting at the bottom of the ramp was the Storm Trooper that he had assigned to Senator Amidala. It was late at night and this one should have been off shift hours ago. If the clone was here now, it meant that something had happened. Something bad.

"Trooper!" he barked, waiting for an explanation he dreaded to hear.

"Sir!" the trooper came to attention. "I feel it is my duty to inform you of all that has happened here with the senator in your absence."

Before, such things were handled with a simple report informing him of everything the senator had done and who she had talked to that went to _him _and no one else. Not once had the trooper decided to personally deliver the report. "And?" he prompted, getting a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Sir, the day you left Coruscant, the senator was called to an audience with the Emperor."

The planet seemed to stop turning. The sick feeling Vader had intensified at the thought, and he was just able to breathe around the tightening of his throat. Without a second thought, he turned away from the trooper and all but ran to the lift, determined to see Padmé for himself. The trooper was right behind him.

As they were weaving through the hall, his P.A. came over to him. "Sir, a moment if you will."

Vader didn't stop. He might have strangled the man had he not been so panicked. He couldn't concentrate on the Force for such a thing. But his silence and continuation in life must have encouraged the lieutenant. "Sir, it's about the senator."

"I know she was summoned," he snapped, anxiety not leaving him.

"It's not just about that, Sir," the Lieutenant said, finally capturing the Sith's attention. "I don't think she's… well, Sir."

"What?" Vader halted so abruptly, the trooper nearly ran into him. "What do you mean? What's wrong with her?" he demanded.

"She won't tell me, Sir," his assistant looked just about as worried and distressed as Vader felt. He had the luxury of being able to show it. "She hasn't been eating dinner regularly, and she won't speak to me."

"She's also only eaten lunch when I've forced her to, Sir," the trooper added.

That was enough. Vader had taken all he could take without succumbing to yet another panic attack. Without the other two, he charged off towards his personal wing, a million different scenarios popping into his head. What had the Emperor talked to her about? What had he done to her? The younger Sith knew very well that his master could torture without leaving a mark, and he was certain the trooper and assistant would have picked up on anything had it been visible. Reaching out with his mind, he brushed hers. She was deeply distressed, yet strangely numb. He hadn't had time to concentrate on her before, but he cursed himself for not doing so now. What had the Emperor found out?

He didn't recall walking across the hallway, but he came back to himself when he tore open her door using the Force in his urgency. She jumped up from the bed, wrapped in her robe, brown eyes wide in surprise. But the moment she saw him, it was not the warm smile that had seen him off with. No, it was a terrible scowl and a deep sense of hatred. It turned Vader cold.

"What did he say to you?" he demanded, not caring that she could hear panic in his voice.

"Get out of my room," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him as she pointed a finger out the door.

Those words, her feelings, were as good as a slap to the face. How? How could this woman who had given him such warm smiles, had kissed him the way she had, be like this? He had thought she cared about him. She _had _cared about him. But now, after only being gone a little over a week, she had turned against him.

"What did he say?" Vader took a threatening step closer to her, covering his hurt with anger.

"I said get out!" she yelled, taking several steps back, her eyes filling with angry tears. "I don't want to see you again."

Another stab to his already wounded soul. "You forget your place, Senator!" he roared, unable to stop himself. "This is _my _home! You have no authority here!"

"Fine!" she screamed, actually losing her temper with him. "Fine, just kill me then!" tears threatened to spill but they did not. "Kill me now and save us both the trouble! Kill me just like you have everyone else!"

"STOP!" he bellowed, objects around her room shaking dangerously. No. He could not lose his temper like this, not with her. However she was reacting was because of the Emperor. It just _had _to be. He refused to be the one to make matters worse. For once, he listened to the voice of the little boy he'd long ago left behind. "Stop," he took several deep breathes, reigning in his temper. "I'm not going to kill you. That would defeat the purpose of my assignment."

"Your assignment," she snorted, it almost sounding like a sob. "Oh yes, your terribly important assignment to watch me. I know all about that."

"You do," he nodded warily, not understanding her reaction. He wanted to reach out with his mind, but was afraid that she would sense him and become more distressed. He didn't want to hurt her, even if she was hurting him. "What did the Emperor tell you?"

"Nothing that wasn't true," she spat bitterly, turning away from him. "Just confirming everything I knew about you."

She wasn't making this easy for him. After such a stressful week, after all he'd been through, he was just so tired. He hadn't expected or wanted to deal with an infuriated woman right now. Whatever the Emperor had said to her, had told her about him didn't matter. She had believed it and maybe it was all true and for the best. But that was not his concern for the time being. Right now, that was not what mattered. Misperceptions could be fixed later. Right now his main concern had to be _her_. She had been left alone, vulnerable to a Sith Master's mind probes. He had to find out what she might have accidently informed his master of or given away.

"Senator," he began again once he was sure his temper wouldn't get the better of him. "What did the Emperor find out from your mind? Did he try to penetrate your mind?"

A fierce glare was his only answer for several moments before she finally crossed her arms and looked straight at him. "Why don't you ask him yourself? Or are you afraid that you'll get in trouble because of what we've done together?"

Infuriating woman! Could she not see that he was trying to understand? To help her? Why was she acting this way? He had not seen her this aggressive since she'd first moved here, and even then she'd been afraid of him to go push too far. Apparently that fear was gone and left with indifference. Trying to glean what he could of all this, he figured that whatever she and the Emperor had discussed had really hurt her, shaken her so that she had some sort of skewed perception of him. She had lost her fear and either she was tired of all of this and was bold enough to stand up to him and his wrath or she had given up and just didn't care what he did to her. The latter utterly terrified him. To have her spirit so wounded… It was not to be borne!

If only he could just enter into her mind and see for himself! But again, the idea was met with resistance from that other part of himself. He didn't dare invade her mind as he would likely destroy it in his panic. He was not good at being subtle, and was surprised that the link he'd made with her before hadn't been discovered yet or overwhelmed her. He could not bear to be the cause of her ruination. Not anymore.

"I ask you because should he find out what we've done together, there is very great danger to you and myself," he explained as calmly as possible, though his voice sounded tight. His control was wavering. Hopefully she would see reason. "Should he find out what has transpired between us, he will likely have you killed."

Her eyes hardened and it hurt to see. "Why would you care if that happened? I'm just some sort of stress relief for you. What do I matter? You could always find another woman to fuck."

Such callousness! Such cynicism had never been heard from her before. Not even when she was first brought here. The brightness that was her aura in the Force was so much dimmer now, and it caused him alarm. She could not be so tainted by this darkness, not her! What had he done? Why was this happening! She was the only thing left in his miserable life that held any real value to him and he was slowly corrupting her, just like everything else.

"No," his voice dropped lower, as if he were speaking to a child. It grabbed her attention instantly. "There will be no other after you. Not ever again."

He was a Sith Lord, and Sith Lords were not meant to have such feelings as this. But lately, he wondered if he could still retain that title as he felt…so much. He was trying, trying to understand this newness of light in his life, trying to adapt and adjust to it, but it was hard. It was slow. It was tearing him apart, but he still had such a long way to go if he even wanted to turn back from the path he was on. That part of him that had remained hidden for so long was whispering encouragement, even as the greater part of his mind felt doubt.

Padmé seemed shocked by his revelation, and actually faltered in her aggressive stance. To hear him say such things must have been as much of a shock to her as it was to him. But she was no longer glaring, and he found his chest didn't feel so tight because of it.

But it was a short lived hope. Almost as if realizing the mistake of letting her guard down, she became flustered and defensive again. "Like I could ever believe that," she snapped.

"If you searched your feelings, you know that it is true." He couldn't tell her more. It wasn't in him. He had to hope she understood what he meant, what he wasn't saying, even if he was a little uncertain himself.

Again, she seemed surprised, but she recovered much faster this time. "Stop lying to me," her voice cracked. "Stop torturing me like this." She was pleading now. "Just…just go ahead and kill me. It would be a kindness compared to this."

Vader panicked. "I can'tkill you!" Force, could she not understand? Did she not know the powers she held over him?

"Why?!" she cried. "I'm tired of waiting around for you to do it! I'm tired of being played with. Just kill me."

Why wouldn't she understand? "I _can't_!"

"Because your master said so?" she spat. "You really are just a pathetic slave, aren't you?"

Silence.

That was it. That was the breaking point for Vader. He'd fought so hard, but he could not handle that. Not from her, not from anyone. Everything glass in the room shattered as he lost control. Not even the senator's startled cry cooled his rage. Too far, she'd gone too far this time! She was rubbing salt into a wound that never healed and it enraged him. He couldn't see straight, couldn't breathe. All he wanted to do was kill, to destroy, to end the one who had caused him to feel this pain.

Reaching out to the Force, he gathered it around himself, harnessing its power. The Darkness eagerly came to his call. Glaring down at the tiny woman, he raised his hand, intent on chocking the life out of her. She wanted to die so badly? Fine! He would make her suffer just as much as she had made him suffer!

But just when he had her right where he wanted, he paused. Brown eyes were staring up at him in utter terror from down on her knees. The sound of the glass exploding must have startled her into dropping down to protecting herself. He could see her mind clearly now, not caring if she knew he was there. He suddenly saw her encounter with the Emperor, his master trying to penetrate her mind, but failing, something not quite her own protecting her. Her confusion and hurt at Vader, her belief of his betrayal. Her sorrow…

He couldn't do it. Lowing her hand, swallowing his dark intent, Vader repressed his anger as much as he could. The effort was tremendous and his whole body shook with the effort to control himself. It took several minutes before he was able to see clearly again, to move past the rage. For the first time that he could remember, he let go of it, giving it to the Force. He didn't want it. And now all he was left with was his own sorrow and guilt over what had happened and what had almost happened.

She wanted him out? Fine. He would leave her alone. His only intent in coming here had been to see if she was hurt. She wasn't, not really. He'd wanted to know if she'd told the Emperor anything, she hadn't. Now he was just overstaying his welcome. He would leave her in peace.

When he made it to the door, he could hear her get up, the glass shifting about her. She would have to change rooms until the glass was repaired, he realized, but he would send C-3PO to deal with that later. Turning around, he regarded her and her shaken, shocked expression. He should leave, but he couldn't just yet.

"What the Emperor said to you was probably true," he acknowledge, watching as she snapped her attention to him. "But not in the way you think."

With that parting wisdom, he left, intent on meditation and rest. He certainly needed it before he faced the day tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note: **How could Dooku injure Vader so much? Reasoning: He was one of the best 'saber masters at the Jedi temple that turned Sith-like. Vader, until that point, hadn't really faced any Jedi before, and was arrogant in his abilities and underestimated Dooku. He never made that mistake again.

Reviews make smiles and happy authors. Happy authors make more chapters. ^_^ Thanks!


	22. Chapter 22: Guide

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Guide **

Padmé Amidala was an extremely lucky woman. There was just no denying that luck had always been on her side. She'd been born into a well-off, loving family that she adored more than anything, had a successful career as both a queen and senator, and more recently, she had survived her last encounter with Lord Vader. When he had been here the night before, shattered all the windows and everything else after she'd called him a slave to his face, somehow, against all probability, he had let her live. She'd seen the way he raised his hand to end her life, had felt the room swirl with a darkness so thick, it had been hard to breathe. But he'd let her live.

None of this made any sense, and Padmé had had her doubts before, but now…How was she supposed to feel? The hatred coming from him had been astonishing, but he'd controlled himself. She'd seen it. It had been fascinating to watch as he physically controlled himself. It almost appeared as though she actually saw physical shadows being pulled into Vader and then exuded out again as a sort of light mist. And then he had left. Left her alive.

Why? Again, the troubling thoughts tumbled around in the senator's head as she thought about everything she knew about the Sith Lord she lived with. He was impatient, a murder, cruel, evil, and uncompromising. But these things didn't apply when he was with her. When it was just the two of them together he showed a tremendous amount of patience, spared her, was kind, considerate even, and bent enough to make deals. There were two totally different sides to Lord Vader, and the more she thought about it, the more her head hurt.

Rolling over in the bed to one of the other guest rooms she was staying in until the windows were replaced, Padmé stared up at the ceiling. It was Saturday morning, and far too early for her to be awake. But her mind wouldn't stop thinking. Wouldn't stop replaying her encounter with Vader the previous evening.

Blocking off her emotions, trying to look at everything objectively, Padmé realized that Vader had come to her in worry. He'd been _worried _about her. Somehow he'd heard about her meeting with the Emperor and had rushed to see her. Force, he hadn't even been patient enough to wait for the doors to slide open on their own! While he had been demanding, as usual, there was concern in his voice when he'd spoken to her. Concern. Really? It didn't seem possible, she tried to push the thought away, but she couldn't. She had to keep being objective.

Thinking back to their exchange, Padmé couldn't help but cringe as she thought about all she'd said, how she'd acted. She'd completely lost it with him. She hadn't been ready to even look at him again let alone confront him. It had been so unexpected to have him suddenly in her room she hadn't thought, just reacted. Looking back on it, she was very lucky that it hadn't cost her, her life.

Again, it was amazing how patient Vader had been trying to be. For a man that didn't practice temperance when it came to his anger, he had done remarkably well. While he still remained demanding, it was considerably milder than he would have been with anyone else. Yes, he had truly been concerned for her.

Doubt tried to rear its ugly head and whispered that he was only worried about himself, that he didn't want to get into trouble with his master, but that didn't feel right. If he was afraid of that, he would have been more aggressive with her. If he had truly been looking out for himself, he would have invaded her mind and got what he'd wanted and left. And then, he wouldn't have reacted so strongly to her telling him to kill her.

That had been very stupid. Padmé had no wish to die and wanted very much to keep living, but she'd wanted to get a jab in at him. It had been extremely dangerous and stupid, but she'd wanted to test him, to see just how far he would go, and make him angry. Palpatine had said Vader was his slave, and even though it was suicidal, she wanted to see if it was true. She'd wanted him to go against his master's orders. She'd wanted to see that he was real. But he hadn't done it.

At first she'd been disgusted. Disgusted because he'd bowed to his master, that wretched creature, so easily. There had been no hesitation in Vader's voice when he proclaimed he would not kill her. But was there more to it than simply obeying an order? It hadn't appeared so until near the end of their screaming match. When he had told her that he would not take another woman after her.

That quiet admission had cut Padmé to the heart. What was she supposed to think of that? Without her leave she'd been touched by it. Had he meant it the way it sounded, or was there more to it? Had he decided that risking some sort of physical relationship just wasn't worth it? Had it meant that pursuing anything remotely resembling romance was beneath him? Or...

Or had he really meant it the way it had sounded? The way Padmé had understood it originally? Had he meant that he was not and could not have another woman after her? That he didn't _want _another woman?

Without realizing it, she began to shake as she explored this possibility. What had he meant? If he didn't want someone after her did that mean he only wanted _her_? That if he no longer had her he would deny himself the physical pleasures of any kind because he…because he what? Because he wanted to remember his times with her? Wanted _only _her? But why would he only want her? Did he…

Padmé's eyes snapped open as the idea sprung into her head. No. It couldn't be. Not _that_. There was no possible way that was true! But now that the idea was there, it was blossoming into a nagging puzzle that needed to be solved. Like her original idea to begin this affair with Vader in the first place, this idea would not leave her, and she knew it would haunt her until she did something about it. Even if it was just as dangerous or more so than her original plot.

Did Vader _love _her?

It sounded so absurd. Of course Vader didn't love her! He was still a Sith Lord, a monster! He'd tried to kill her last night! But he hadn't. She'd felt him lose himself in the moment, into the rage, but he hadn't even touched her. Unlike every other time she'd seen or heard of him, Vader had stopped himself, had stop himself because of her. Because…because why?

Sith Lords did not know about love. They only knew hate. They did not feel anything except contempt and rage. A Sith Lord could only destroy. But he hadn't. He hadn't destroyed her before when it had she caused him discomfort, he hadn't destroyed her last night when she'd obviously hurt him over something. There was no doubt in her mind that he had killed people for less than the insult she'd paid him. But he hadn't killed her, not even when he had been so close and would have possibly been justified. He hadn't. Not because of his master's wishes, not because he wanted to defy her, but because _he _hadn't wanted to.

It was startling. It shocked Padmé to her core when she realized it. _He _hadn't wanted to. That's not what the Emperor had told her. He'd said Vader was looking forward to it, would take great pleasure in it, but he wouldn't. Somehow Padmé just knew that he wouldn't. Her eyes were suddenly opened with this new understanding. Darth Vader hadn't killed her because he hadn't wanted to. He wouldn't have taken pleasure in it because he wanted to keep her. He would take no other women after her because…because he _loved _her.

It was a fairly reasonable explanation save for the detail that this was Lord Vader she was thinking about. The creature that killed before he listened. Death followed in this man's wake, and whatever he touched died. Except her. Because he cared about her. He might even _love _her.

The thought utterly terrified Padmé as she didn't know what to think of it. If this was all true, and the infamous Dark Lord loved her—which could still not be true— what did that mean for her? Would he try to keep her forever, even if she was allowed to go? Lock her away and deny her freedom? Just thinking about it frightened her.

But how did she feel about the idea of Vader loving her? Her instinctive response was to feel disgust and push it away. She was a rebel for Force sake! How did it look for her, then, to be actually dating Lord Vader? She could not accept his love.

Could she?

Again, Padmé tried to push aside everything and focus on what her innermost feelings were telling her. Behind the fear and disgust, she was…relieved? Yes, even though she wasn't exactly sure why, she'd been relieved by his words last night that he didn't want another woman after her. The thought of him with someone else upset her more than she would have thought. And with that relief came pleasure. As strange as it was, she was flattered that he, Darth Vader, Second of the Empire, Heir to the Throne, loved her. Not because of his title and rank, but because it meant that of all the women he could have ever had, he chose her. He put himself at odds with his reputation and nature for her.

Closing her eyes, she remembered how it had been before he left. That night he had been with her. If she focused, she could still feel his kiss upon her lips, his hot breath on her neck. The calloused hand roaming over her exposed skin. There had been a feeling that night, a warm, safe feeling even in their fevered intercourse.

Love, she realized. There had been love. In a strange turn of events, Vader had ended up giving himself to her just as she had to him. He had stopped taking long ago, she realized, he'd been trying to give back. It had only been with their last encounter with each other that he had finally figured out exactly how to express it. She had guided him, he had _needed _her to guide him. It was like he'd been waiting all his life for someone direct him this way, and when she had, it had finally opened him up, finally allowed him to express what was always hidden away and bottled up inside that black suit.

_I love him_, she thought in astonishment. It didn't make sense, it went against reason and sanity, but she knew now what it was she'd felt for him, after so long. She loved him. Not just because of the way he made her body feel. Somehow, after living with him for so long, she'd become attuned to him, to his feelings and emotions. It was as though she had been able to see something deep within him that perhaps he didn't even see. There was good in him, it wasn't just wishful thinking. There really was something in there, he just didn't know how to express it…

No, this couldn't be! She _loved _him?! Why?! He was a horrible creature that killed without remorse. How could she love him? She hardly knew him! This had to be something else. For _both _of them. This was all some sort of strange fantasy. She'd been kept in here too long with no one but him. It was like one of those crazy romance novels her sister liked to indulge in. Love wasn't about just sleeping with someone and imagining they had feelings and hidden emotions that only you could bring out.

But there was also more going on here than what met the eye. Padmé knew that. She was feeling something, and Vader obviously was as well. It might look like love, but she wasn't going to give into the temptation of allowing herself to indulge in a fantasy. This could all be just speculation, a trick that her mind was playing on her. It had been a rather poor choice on her part to start this whole fling with Vader in the first place, she wasn't going to be so quick this time just because an idea struck. She would wait and see how all this panned out.

Getting up out of bed, deciding that there was no point in trying to sleep anymore, Padmé stared out the window. It was still fairly dark out, or as dark as Coruscant ever got. Of course there was still so much traffic out, no matter the time. Looking back over at her nightstand, she saw the stone she had taken from Vader's chambers. It was the only 'personal' thing that she had found, and it more than likely wasn't even his.

Briefly she wondered what it really was. It was obviously some sort of decorative piece, perhaps jewelry for some poor native on a more primitive planet. It was beautiful in an exotic sense. Naboo was such a built up, developed planet, anything like this was excitingly different. She wondered what planet it had come from. She wondered if Vader had killed the owner. Even though it wouldn't have surprised her, she hoped that wasn't the case. That part of her that believed there was good in him paled at the thought that he could do such a thing, even as she knew it was true.

Picking it up, she turned it over in her hand, again looking at the single, easily missed word on the back. Shmi. She wondered what it meant. Was this for good luck? Fortune? Or something different? Maybe it had come off of something bigger, like a headdress or necklace? Maybe she could look it up later?

For a few hours Padmé sat watching the traffic, thinking as she turned her hands over the smooth stone. When the door chimed, he feared that it was Vader. She wasn't sure she could face him, especially since the annoying question of love kept bouncing around in her head and wouldn't leave her alone. But when no one barged in, she assumed it wasn't him. Vader was not so patient when it came to waiting for doors.

Walking over, still in her nightgown, the senator opened it to find 3PO standing just outside. "Good morning, my lady!" he said in delight. The droid had obviously not learned what had transpired the night before, and did not know of the fight that had occurred between her and his master. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"Not at all," she gave a weak smile.

"I thought I would inform you that there will be a crew to replace the windows and clean up everything here later this morning so you'll be able to move back very soon."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Would you like for me to bring your necessary showering provisions and a change of clothes here for you?" he asked.

Padmé smiled at the helpful droid. "I'll go get them myself." She paused. "Although I could probably use some help getting it all here. Would you mind?"

"Oh, not at all, my lady!" 3PO cried, delighted to help.

And so, as they made their way back to the battlefield from the previous evening, Padmé remembered something important. "Threepio? You speak many different languages and understand different cultures, right?"

"Oh, yes, my lady!" 3PO bobbed his head. "I am fluent in over six million forms of communications and can—"

"What does 'shmi' mean?" she asked, glad they had made it safely inside her room so that she could avoid certain individuals.

The droid was thoughtful for a moment. "Well, in most languages it is simply a verb or preposition. In Bothese it means 'to recover' and in Mon Calamarian it means 'land.' On Rishi it means 'the chosen.' There are other definitions of it simply being an adjective that—"

"I think I get it," she mumbled, frowning in thought. Realizing she was going to have to risk it, she held up the stone for the droid to see. "Do you know what culture this could have come from? And does it have any connection to the word shmi?"

3PO went incredibly still, and stood as if frozen for several long moments, seeming to just stare at the object in her hand. "Where did you get that, my lady?" he asked, sounding more frightened and panicked than she had ever heard him before. Which was saying a lot.

"I…found it," she lied, shrugging her shoulder. "Why?"

"That's Lord Vader's!" he cried. "Oh, he will be looking for it! He told me to put it away while he was gone, but I'd forgotten! But he will look for it soon, very soon I'm sure! You must give it back to me, please! I must return it!"

Such a volatile reaction was not what she had been expecting. It was important, whatever it was, something that Vader would look for. Had he taken it from wherever he'd gotten it because it held some sort of power? Some sort of information? If Vader was so interested in such an object, certainly the rebellion probably would be too.

Clutching it to her chest, she shook her head. "Not until you tell me what it is and why it's so important."

"Oh dear, oh dear!" the droid wailed. "Please, my lady! That is extremely important to my master. If anything should happen to it…" He didn't bother to finish himself, signifying to Padmé that this must really be top secret information. Maybe she'd hit the jackpot t last.

"Tell me or I'll never give it back," she threatened.

"If you don't, he'll come here and _take _it from you!" the droid cried. "I'm not entirely certain what he would do if he found you had it. Please, just give it to me and I'll return it directly!"

"No," she shook her head. She felt a little cruel being like this to the panicky droid. "Just tell me and I'll give it to you and Vader will never have to know it was gone and you didn't put it away like you were supposed to."

The droid hesitated, looking as uncomfortable and worried as a droid possibly could, before he finally seemed to be giving. "It's very important to him…"

"Tell me what it is and what 'shmi' means and I'll give it back," she promised. "Why is this so important to him?"

"It belonged to his mother!" 3PO blurted out.

Padmé was once more shocked to her core. Mother? Darth Vader had a _mother_? Of course some part of her had always known that this had to be, but to hear of such a thing spoken out loud and confirmed? It didn't seem real.

"Mother?" she repeated, still stunned.

"Shmi was the name of his mother," the droid moaned, the dam bursting now that he'd gotten started. "It had apparently come from a necklace she'd made and is the only thing he has left of his planet before he was taken!"

More questions were raised than answered, but none could firmly form in Padmé's mind as she was still dazed at what she'd heard. Vader had a mother. This had once been a necklace piece from the mother of Vader. It blew her mind. Suddenly Vader became more real to her than ever before. He was suddenly more human. A mother. There _was _a beginning to Lord Vader and it wasn't at the birth of the Empire. There really was a past for him, something for him to look back to that was not Imperial.

Once she'd managed to digest some of the information, her mind was able to function enough that she could finally ask a question. "Taken for what?"

"For his Sith training." If he could have, 3PO would have sighed.

"But…was he _taken _or did he go?" There was a huge difference between the words. 3PO had deliberately chosen the word 'taken' and she wanted to know exactly what he'd meant by it.

"He was taken after his mother's death," the droid explain, looking highly uncomfortable somehow. "He was then given into the guardianship of Emperor Palpatine."

"Guardianship?" This was becoming more confusing than less by the minute. "How old was he when he was taken?"

"My lady, please! I've already said too much!" the droid begged.

Knowing that he was right, and not wanting Vader to take his wrath out on the poor machine, she handed the stone, the necklace, back to 3PO. She still couldn't believe it. That had belonged to the woman who had given birth to Darth Vader. Darth Vader had a _mother_.

"How do you know all this?" she asked. Somehow she couldn't imagine the Sith just sitting down and telling his life story to a droid.

"He told me, of course," 3PO held the piece as carefully as a machine could, almost sounding self-righteous. "I was his closest confidant when he was younger. It was one of the many reasons he built me."

It was too much. Padmé's eyes finally bugged out. "He built _you_?" she cried.

"Of course," the droid replied, calmer now that he had gotten back something so personally valuable to his master back. "He knew he needed someone to care for him."

Unable to stop herself, Padmé sat down heavily on the bed. So. This was a day full of surprises. Vader had a mother, Vader had become a Sith at a young enough age that he needed a guardian, and Vader had built C-3PO. Would wonders ever cease? Unable to stop herself, she started laughing. All this day needed was for Vader to come to her and declare his undying love for her and she would have realized she'd finally gone insane.

Just when she thought there could be nothing left to surprise her about the Sith Lord, that she had finally figured him out, something always came back to slapped her in the face. Just when she thought she knew what to think, it all shifted again.

It suddenly struck Padmé that she'd gone into his chambers in search of proof that he was not a machine and she'd believed she hadn't found anything. Little did she know that it was a machine and a stone that showed his humanity. Hidden in plain sight, Vader had kept precious, personal things in which he held dear. The only thing he had of his planet and of a mother that was no longer here, and a droid he'd built for companionship. It all sounded so sad, so…

_Stop thinking about him like that! _she scolded herself immediately. _You still don't even know him beyond what you see and what Threepio says. Whoever Vader was before becoming a Sith is probably long gone._

Sighing to herself, Padmé decided to just grab her things and eave to get ready for the day. No use waiting around here for the repair crew to come and see her in her nightgown. So as she went into the 'fresher and collected all she needed, she could hear 3PO moving again.

"Oh! Oh dear! I nearly forgot! My lady, I was also to inform you that you would be escorted to a party tonight by Lord Vader."

Padmé nearly dropped what she'd been holding. "What?! There's no party tonight."

"This is, as I understand it, one for Imperial officers and the like. Lord Vader is required to make an appearance, and so too are you," the droid explained.

So much for spending a Saturday alone thinking about all she'd discovered. But she was convinced she'd been through worse.

**oOoOoOo**

Padmé stood rigidly beside Vader later that evening when they were at the party. They hadn't spoken a word to one another all day, not even on the flight over. They had taken one of Vader's luxury speeders, a model she was sure wasn't even out on the market yet, and now here they were, standing and watching as the cream of the cream in the Imperial Navy and Army mingled. She had really fallen in the nexu den now.

3PO had helped her pick out a dress for the evening, a long, black affair that was tight around the middle with a silver belt that flowed down to pool at her feet. The large, heavy silver necklace she wore served also as straps for the dress and made sure that nothing would fall down by accident, though she wore a long black velvet cloak to keep her warm in the chilling air and protect her just in case. Somehow, even with 3PO's help, she's managed to twister her hair back into buns on either side of her head and put a matching headpiece on to complete the image of sophistication. It was all simple, but that's what made it elegant.

She needn't have worried about how plain she was, the rest of the woman were either as simply dressed as she was or looked like plain trash. It was actually quite shocking how some of the Grand Moff's wives were not only dressing, but were behaving. She would have thought they would know better than and would act with decorum. Apparently not.

Next to her she knew Vader held the same contempt for them…and everyone else, really. It was clear that he didn't want to be here, but his presence was required. He was the Supreme Commander, after all, it wouldn't look so good if he didn't bother to come. But Vader apparently took 'being there' in the most literal sense only as he still did not mingle, but stood at the side, watching. Padmé stayed by his side and said nothing. She didn't really know anyone here.

Well, that was no entirely true. A busty redhead caught her sight, hanging off the arm of yet another General. She wondered what happened to the last. Maybe he was out on assignment and Cotrilla had gotten bored? Sounded like a real possibility.

Looking over the room, Padmé's eye caught the refreshment table. Even though she was still nervous by being next to Vader again after the other night, she was hungry. Maybe a little something to nibble on. Glancing up at the Sith, she looked back over at the food table and started to leave.

A hand fell on her shoulder. "Where are you going?"

The first four words of the entire day! She tried not to shiver at his touch. "To get refreshments. I'm hungry."

"No wine," he commanded sternly, though he need not have said anything. Padmé had learned her lesson perfectly well last time.

So she was allowed to go off on her own. Not that she was going to take advantage of anything. She didn't know anyone here and just wanted something to eat. With nothing else to do, she would go back over to stand beside the Sith Lord and eat in silence and hope that they would leave early.

"Senator Amidala."

Padmé turned in time to see Ritia sashaying over to her, a wicked smile on her face. The younger woman nearly groaned out loud. "Good evening, Senator Cotrilla. How are you?" she asked as she continued to make herself a plate.

"Wonderful, as always," the other woman smirked, grabbing a glass of wine. It was clear she'd already had some. "And you? Still pretending to be Lord Vader's girlfriend?"

While she should not dignify that with a response, it still hit a little too close to home. Padmé's emotions were still jumbled around everywhere and she wasn't sure if she was something to Vader and didn't want to be, or if she wasn't and wanted to be. All her mind could produce for her was the image of a lonely young man with no mother sitting with 3PO wanting companionship as Palpatine loomed over him. Did she really want to entangle herself more fully with such a complicated and, frankly, messed up man?

"I don't have to pretend anything," Padmé smiled tightly, knowing it wasn't entirely true. "I was invited to come with him and here I am."

The redhead jutted out her hip and crossed her arms disbelievingly, sloshing her wine a bit. "Right. So tell me, if you are really dating him, and are his girlfriend, what's he like? What's under that mask? And what's under his belt," she smirked.

A blush sprang to Padmé's cheeks before she could stop it. Images of what she had felt when she and Vader were in private came to mind. The hard muscles, the actual normal feeling hair, the soft lips, and of course the way he could make her feel from the inside out. She could tell Ritia what Vader was like in clear detail, but she would not, not even if she was at liberty to do so.

"He's really not so different outside the public view as he is within," she answered honestly. "He's busy most of the time, and so am I."

"I knew it," the other woman snorted. "This is just some sort of hoax. Why is Lord Vader even playing along with this? You're just using him."

_Oh if only that were true_, Padmé thought wistfully. Things would be much simpler then.

"I am not using him," she stated firmly, straighten up to her full height. "We were brought together on a certain issue, have gotten to know each other better for it, and now come to functions together for convenience sake. That is all. Now if you'll excuse me," she nodded towards the other senator, even as it killed her to do so, before she left, grabbing some water as she went.

When she returned to Vader's side, she saw Moff Fairfax with him. She shuttered, not wanting to go over to the other man who had been so vulgar last time she'd met him, but knew, somehow, that Vader would protect her this time. It was…comforting.

Walking over to the two men, she bowed her head in greeting. "Moff Fairfax."

The other man had looked extremely nervous before, but now he looked almost as though he'd be sick. Whatever they had been talking about before must not have been good. Maybe Vader had brought up what had happened last time. Maybe he had been voicing his displeasures at how the Moff had treated her? That was a nice thought.

"Senator Amidala," the Moff bowed his head low. Very low. "It is a pleasure to see you again this evening."

Knowing that the Sith was near her, and that this man was fighting to keep his life with Vader listening so closely now, Padmé put on her best, more charming smile. It was wrong of her and she didn't really want the other man to die at the hands of Vader…but oh how she wanted to make him suffer for the things he'd said to her the last time they'd met!

"Pleasure," she drawled, showing how little she thought of him while still maintaining protocol. "I'm afraid I won't be able to dance tonight," she smiled tightly, causing the man to flinch. "I don't feel much like it."

Vader shifted closer to her, and for just one wild moment, she thought he was going to put his arm around her, but he didn't. Of course he didn't. That would be absurd. He wouldn't do that, and had just moved closer to be territorial …right? She was lying to herself, of course, as she could feel anger and protectiveness radiating off of him.

"O-Of course not, I wouldn't dare try to take you away from your date. I mean, escort. I…I mean—"

"Shut up," Vader snapped, and even though it was horribly bad manners, Padmé struggled not to smile.

"Yes, my lord!" the Moff bowed before all but running away. When he was gone, Padmé did smile.

"He won't bother you again," Vader rumbled quietly, for her ears only.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest, somehow just knowing that he had done that for her. For just a moment, she let her defensiveness drop and leaned into the knowledge that he was being kind to her, in his own messed up, Sith way. "I know," she nearly whispered, afraid to look up lest she smile at him again. "Thank you."

And once more they fell into silence, a more comfortable one this time. After all she'd said to him, how cruel she'd been, he was still there, still watching over her, and not because of the Emperor. Not completely. Maybe there was something to care about within this man. Maybe he really did just need a guide?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Force sake us from stubborn denial! But at least Padmé's become aware of what might be happening to her, Vader's still hopelessly confused.

Thanks again for the awesome reviews, everyone! I really appreciate them!


	23. Chapter 23: Maternal

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Maternal**

When Sola Naberrie wanted to know something, she usually found out. She was not the politician in the family or the earth-shaker that her father and sister were. But if anyone or anything came between Sola and what she wanted, there was hell to pay.

Storming through the Naboo palace, charging forward with single-minded intent, the stay-at-home mother was fully committed to dispatch anything or anyone in her way. She was not here as a citizen, friend, or mother. She was here as a big sister. A big sister that would stop at nothing until she knew what had happened to her baby sister, Padmé. Let security try and stop her. She _dared _them.

Fortunately, most of the palace guards recognized her and she was free to go as she pleased. Since she was not making a beeline for the throne room or anywhere close to the queen, they let her be. For the time being. Briefly she wondered what they would do once they realized she was about to kill a certain senator that had returned to her planet _without _her sister.

Coming to her destination, Sola banged on the ancient door, hoping it sounded as furious as she was. Even though she knew that she shouldn't, she wanted Bail to feel as miserable as possible. How was it that the man came here without Padmé? This wasn't even his planet, for Force sake! He had better have a good excuse or at the very least some pretty damn good information about what had happened to her sister or so help her, Sola would _kill_ him.

When no one opened the door right away, Sola began banging louder, even though her hand hurt in the process. "Bail Organa, you open this door right now or I _will _blast it down!" she yelled.

A second later, a very frazzled senator opened the door, and stared down at the irate woman. "Sola!" he breathed. "Force, what is the _matter _with you? Are you trying to get yourself arrested?"

"Save it," she snapped. "Where's Padmé?"

That infernal stately mask fell into place so quickly, Sola immediately knew something was wrong. "Senator Amidala is on Coruscant, of course. She—"

The Naboo woman held up her hand for silence, trying to control herself so she wouldn't start screaming again. Or crying. The stress the last several months, and indeed almost two weeks ago when Padmé had managed to call their parents, had really taken its toll on her and her family. To know that Padmé was being held by the Emperor and Lord Vader…it wasn't a comforting thought.

"Where is Padmé?" she asked again, this time more slowly, more deliberately.

"Sola," the Alderaanian began tiredly.

"Where is she?" Sola snapped. "I'm not leaving here until I know exactly what happened to my baby sister!"

"In you must let her, Senator," a strange voice from within said. "Better it is for her to know."

The Alderaanian looked back before sighing. The woman watched as he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. She hadn't realized he had guests, and she felt a little embarrassed that she'd been all but throwing a tantrum out in the hallway. Not her best hour, but it had yielded results. In the end, that's all that really mattered.

As she stepped in, Sola saw a small green being standing near the large bed, and in the large bed laid… "Hey!" she exclaimed as the door closed. "I remember you. You're the Jedi that protected my sister about ten years ago when the planet was under attack from the Trade Federation."

He looked terrible, and considerably different than the last time Sola had seen him. Indeed, he was older, his hair grown out slightly, and he had a beard. His face was pale and wrought with stress while his arm was thickly rapped up, as was one leg. After the purges, she hadn't thought there were any Jedi left. It came as a tremendous surprised to her to see one sitting there, perhaps not well, but at least in one piece.

"Hello, my lady," the Jedi tried to smile at her. "How are you?"

Sola continued to stare for a long moment before turning towards the small green creature. If that man was a Jedi, then what was this being? Bail was looking uncomfortable and certainly unsure, which was not a common expression on the Alderaanian's face. It startled the Naboo woman.

"Trust her we can, I sense," the green being said, stepping forward. "Jedi Master Yoda, I am. Your sister, I have known well. Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, you already know."

It took a moment for everything to sink in, but when it did, Sola's eyes grew wide and she realized just what she had walked into. "By the Force," she breathed. "Bail, you're harboring fugitives of the galaxy!" she hissed, her eyes darting from one Jedi to the other, glancing about the room as though the Empire were to charge in at any second.

The senator smirked at her, but it was a sad, self-depreciating sort of expression. "Oh, it goes farther than that, I'm afraid, Mrs. Naberrie. Have you ever heard of an organization called the Rebel Alliance?"

The color from the young mother's face drained instantly. She might not be the politician of the family or the queen of a planet, but she was smart. Very smart, and it didn't take her long to recognize all that was happening, what must have happened. Walking forward, she slumped down on the bed, sitting down hard, but making sure she did not hit the invalid beside her. "Padmé's a rebel too, isn't she?" she asked, looking at each man in turn.

The senator and Kenobi looked astounded. "How did you know?" Bail asked.

Sola snorted. "Please. You think I don't know my own sister? I've always wondered how she could sit on the Galactic Senate when she believed so strongly in everything that opposes it. And now she has suddenly been forced out of contact with everyone and under the particular care of the Emperor and Darth Vader?" She rolled her eyes. "Please. I might not like my sister, but I'm not stupid." Her engineering degree said so.

"No one ever thought you were," Obi-Wan sat up, leaning forward to try and offer a comforting hand to the woman.

Master Yoda was staring at her thoughtfully. "Your silence on the matter will be assured?"

It really was a toss-up between if she was more disbelieving or angry with them at the moment. "You really think I would risk my little sister's life by going around and blabbing?" She sent them all a vicious glare. "You really have to ask?"

"We have to be careful," Bail amended. "We've been getting by on borrowed time as it is."

"What do you mean?"

Again, the men all shared a look and it only served to make Sola even angrier. Even though she knew it was not what they were trying to do, it made her feel like a child, a simpler being that they believed wouldn't understand the complexities of the situation. It was patronizing and felt like the time when she was younger and her parents wouldn't tell her what was really happening with a cousin of theirs that had gotten into some major trouble when he'd been studying abroad. They had thought they were protecting her and that she wouldn't understand the situation from a more mature level. Perhaps they were right to an extent, but it was still frustrating. Young people weren't stupid, and neither was she just because she was out of the loop on this one.

"Lord Vader is on to us, I believe," the Alderaanian said at last. "He's been monitoring your sister extensively, hardly letting her out of his sight. He was even the one that injured Obi-Wan."

Shocked, Sola turned her head towards the blonde who was looking uneasy just as much as he was grim. "_You _survived Lord Vader?" she asked in awe. "Then…then you must truly be a great warrior! You could defeat him!"

But before she had even finished, Kenobi was shaking his head in the negative. "I'm afraid not. I barely left the fight at all, and I was only able to do that because Vader let me go." For a moment, the blue eyes took on a far away, thoughtful expression, before he brought himself back out of his reserve again. "Besides," his smile was one that bespoke great pain and sadness. "—I never even managed to get a hit on him at all."

In her humble option, anyone that could walk away from a fight with Lord Vader had to be a great warrior whether they were let go or not. The Sith was terrifying, and his reputation didn't help afford him to anyone. It always amazed Sola that no one had ever had a heart attack after just looking at the creature with their own eyes. What frightened her more, however, was the fact that it was this creature her little sister now found herself captive to. If the Jedi could not stand up to this hell-spawn, what hope did her sister?

As the thought sank in, Sola started to shake, her anxiety over everything getting the better of her at last. It was a family trait to be strong in the face of adversity, but even a Naberrie had their limit. Sola had finally hit hers, and now that the situation with her little sister was starting to flesh out and she was beginning to image all the horrible things that could befall her sister. Before it had been speculation, just her imagination and unconfirmed truths. Now…

"Is…is she okay?" she whispered, staring at Bail, knowing he would know better than the others. "She's not…he hasn't…"

The senator became extremely somber, his features grim. After a deep breath, he came and sat down near her, causing a thrill of panic to shoot through her. "She was well last I saw her," he began carefully. "There has never been any real _physical _injuries that any of us could see. But…"

"But he's probably been mentally torturing her," Sola finished bluntly. There was no use sugar coding the truth.

"I'm not sure if that is the case, at least not in the way you're thinking," Bail added quickly, trying to put her fears to rest. It wasn't working.

"Tell me the truth, Bail," she snapped, becoming impatient. She could handle this. "What have you seen?"

Hesitation was not a good quality for a senator, but Sola understood why he did. It was always hard for someone to deliver bad news to a family. "Most days she seems fine," he began slowly. "For the first several weeks she seemed…withdrawn, not really herself. Later she was better. Her freedom has been greatly inhibited, but she has managed to work around it. Somehow," he smiled fondly, as if thinking back to his friend. "Although…I haven't told any of you this," he looked apologetically at the two Jedi, "but Padmé is the one has been giving me information."

Obi-Wan looked uncomfortable, while Yoda dour. Sola couldn't help the dread that settled over her. "She's been smuggling information to you while under Vader's care?" she asked disbelievingly. "How?"

"I'm not entirely sure," the senator admitted with a sigh. "But I trust her," he stated firmly.

"Then why was an assassin sent after her?" Sola demanded, suddenly remembering the news she'd heard. "Because you had such utter faith in her?" she sneered.

"That was not an ordered attack," Bail denied. "Or at least I didn't know about it. I'd never seen the man before in my life, and from what I could gather, neither had Padmé."

"You've been sending me to planet after planet using her information…Bail," Obi-Wan groaned. "What if this was all a trap? What if Vader was just _letting _her give this information? What if that's how he knew I was on Geonosis?"

At last the Alderaanian seemed to have grown a backbone and stood up a little straighter. "I might not have the Force to tell me when someone's lying or anything like that, but I _know _Padmé was telling the truth. I think…I think Vader must have questioned her at one point before she passed on any information anyway."

Even though this was a whole new playing field for the stay-at-home mother, Sola knew that by 'questioning' he had really meant 'torture,' or at least that was not out of the possibility. It made her feel cold inside to know that while she was safe on Naboo with her family, her sister was being held prisoner and tortured while she fought for what she believed in. Why had Padmé gotten herself mixed into all this mess? Why had she ever agreed to become senator in the first place? Surely she'd paid back all her dues to the planet as queen! They'd stolen her childhood for that and now they wanted her freedom?

"She recovered quickly," Bail went on, as if remembering how Sola might interpret his words. "She was very careful, too, about how she passed information. She and Vader struck some sort of deal, she'd said. That she could spend at least an hour a day without him monitoring her. Probably to help her maintain her sanity so she'd be useful."

"Or further torture," Obi-Wan stated sadly. "Make her realized what she could have, but denying her the full taste of it."

"Regardless, she seems to have adjusted well to it," the senator sent a glare at his friend, who seemed too much lost in thought to notice the insensitivity of his words. While Sola, on one level, was annoyed with the Jedi, she at least appreciated his honesty. "There have only been a few times where she has not seemed well."

"Which translates to, my sister is absolutely miserable, because if _you _were able to see her worn out and generally not doing well, that means she wasn't able to hide it, which means that she's in far worse shape than you know." Putting her head in her hands, Sola leaned forward, trying not to image the torture her sister went through on a daily basis. "We _have _to help her."

"And help her, we will." Yoda jumped up next to the woman and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Powerful things are happening in the Force. Very powerful. Senator Amidala, in the middle of it, she is. Obi-Wan, visions of hope he has had. The Emperor and Vader, maintain their power forever they cannot."

"But if Padmé's in the middle of this, what if she gets hurt? What if she gets caught in the crossfire?" Sola stood up. She needed to move. Moving always helped her think. "If thing are happening and the Emperor and Vader are going to fall, what if they realize it and kill my sister in an attempt to save themselves by using her as leverage?"

"I don't think that will happen."

The Jedi and Sola looked at Bail, surprised. "Why not?" the Naboo woman asked.

Once more, the senator seemed uncomfortable, but he pushed on. "I've seen your sister and Vader together and…and it's not what you think."

Sola scoffed. "Are you trying to sell me that whole relationship garbage the media is?"

"No, but I am trying to sell you the idea that there is something going on between them…I can't really explain it," he sighed. "Vader is extremely attentive to Padmé, to the point where he almost looks like an over anxious mother watching over her child."

Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, a _mother _figure? Had it been a different Imperial authority other than Vader, and another girl in Padmé's shoes, Sola might have burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. What Bail had just described was so ludicrously far-fetched, that it bored on absurdity. Sola was going to tell him that too, but caught Kenobi sitting up straighter, looking as though he had a realization come over him before he smothered it back down and once again melted into a pensive silence out of the corner of her eye. She wondered if anyone else saw it.

Instead of yelling and scolding the other man for being such an idiot, however, all Sola could muster up to say was, "You're crazy."

Obviously the Alderaanian knew that such a response would be likely, and fought to remain as poised and stately as possible. It was the sort of look that told Sola she'd gotten under his skin but didn't want to admit it. It amused her, at least. "I know what it sounds like," he acknowledged, "but it's true. One night at a party they were both attending, Padmé…had…more than she probably should have—" big sister instincts kicked in and Sola scowled at the idea, "—and Vader came over to collect her from me. Himself. I know it doesn't sound like much, but if you know Lord Vader even a little, you know he wouldn't bother with the trouble of being near anyone intoxicated.

"He…he was…patient with Padmé," he went on, his face scrunching up in confusion of his own, even as he tried to make the others understand. "Lord Vader isn't patient with anyone. He was angry with her, to be sure!" he amended quickly. "But I got the feeling that he was angry because she was drunk and not because he didn't like her…It was similar to how a parent would be disappointed and furious at their child for making the same stupid mistake."

Once more, Sola couldn't help but snort at the idea. "So what? You think Padmé's all right because Lord Vader's going to adopt her?"

"No, of course not like that," Bail blushed. "But what I am trying to say is that your sister has some sort of…power of him. She must have something over him, because I've never seen or heard of Lord Vader acting so…tolerant with anyone before."

"Hmm…strange his behavior is," Yoda nodded. "Add to Obi-Wan's release, stranger still. The Force is at work."

They all fell silent again, each lost in thought for different reasons. While she'd come here to get information about her sister, and was expecting anything and everything, this development had stunned her. Padmé had always had a way of swaying people to her point of view, a power over them, to talk them into just about anything. Could it really be true that she had managed to do this with Lord Vader?

It didn't seem likely. Padmé had always been an optimistic. Sola was a realist. And looking at the facts, something wasn't lining up. Lord Vader didn't bend, he didn't make deals, and he hated senators. So how was it that Padmé had miraculously struck a bargain with the Sith? This had to be some sort of trick. But then, why would Vader suddenly show such patience with his sister? Unless it was all for appearance sake? Although that didn't seem likely either as she'd never heard of Lord Vader actually caring about what other people thought of him. So why start now?

No, there was something missing here. Even these men were hiding something from her, she just knew it. Or at least Kenobi was. The way he closed off after the beginning of their conversation told Sola that this man knew much more than he was letting on. Maybe it was nothing, maybe she was just being suspicious, but there _was _something not quite right about this entire situation.

"And what about Padmé?" she asked again, tired. "What are we going to do about her? Parental or not, we have to get her away from him."

"If there were an opportunity, we would try, but with Vader always near her…" Bail trailed off with a sigh.

"Away from her, we must get him," Yoda nodded. "Or get them away from Coruscant."

"That's it!" Sola cried, rushing over to the little green being, and nearly kissing him. "The anniversary of defeating the Trade Federation is coming up. Padmé has always come home for that and participated in the festivities. This year is the eleventh anniversary." At their rather blank expressions, she had to roll her eyes. "Elven is a cultural significant number here. This is a big deal! If she doesn't attend, it could create a huge scandal."

The senator was smiling now, having caught on. "If we pushed to have her here, the Emperor would have to oblige! The Empire is still shaky, at best, and he can't have discontent on his homeworld! It would be too much of an outrage."

"He would have to have Padmé come here, and even if that means Vader tags along, they will at least be out of Coruscant, and not have as many resources," Sola was grinning with excitement.

Kenobi remained pensive, while Yoda was nodding along. "Yes. A distraction would be needed to secure your sister," the Jedi Master was nodding. "Deal, I will, with Vader."

That snapped the blonde from his thoughts at last. "No, Master!" he cried. "You cannot face Vader. He's too powerful. Your knowledge of the Jedi way _must _be preserved."

"Fight him again, you cannot, Obi-Wan," the old master looked over his student sadly. "A distraction is needed."

"Yes, but there has to be another way than direct conflict," Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "You would fare better than I did," he gazed down at his arm ruefully, "but I still do not believe you would be able to win against him. His abilities are not what you would expect."

"No one has to cut up anyone else with laser swords," Sola snapped, feeling like she was listening to some sort of childish debate between her daughters. Couldn't they see that there were more important things to finalize first other than how to distract Vader? That would come later. "Right now we need to push the queen into requesting for Padmé to be brought back here. _Then _we'll figure out exactly how to deal with Vader and what will be done with Padmé once she's free."

"I could always take her to the Rebel Base," Bail offered. "That would be safest."

Sola nodded. "All right then. Do you two agree? I have a feeling we will need Jedi intervention."

Even though the younger Jedi looked doubtful, the master was nodding. And so together, even though she knew what she was doing was treasonous, and crazy, Sola unofficially joined the Rebel Alliance in the hopes that she could mend her broken family and get her baby sister back.

**oOoOoOo**

Sitting at the lunch table with Cory, Padmé pushed her food around distractedly. She didn't feel much like eating. There was still far too much on her mind.

"Are you going to eat that, or am I going to have to shove it down your throat?"

Startled, she looked up to find Cory glaring at her. Ever since her meeting with the Emperor, he'd taken his guard duty to a whole new level. An annoying level. Now he really was like a babysitter, always telling her to eat something or he'd _make _her. Granted, his concern was touching, and even necessary the week before, but now that Vader had come back, and she was starting to figure things out, it wasn't entirely necessary. She even played with the idea of not eating simply to vex the trooper.

But when he started to stand up, scowling, Padmé immediately shoved her food in her mouth and began to chew dutifully. The Storm Trooper sat down again, a satisfied expression on his face as he continued to eat his own lunch. He even mutter a "that's more like it" in between the bites.

The senator had to hide her smile. Who knew troopers could be so motherly?

"So what was with you last week anyway?" he asked after a few moments of silence. The appropriate amount of time must have passed if he brought this up. "You seem a lot better now."

"I am better now," Padmé held back a sigh. Motherly or not, Storm Troopers were still some of the most blunt, tactless people she'd met when it came to conversation.

"Not entirely," he eyed her carefully, like she was some sort of wild beast. He paused before asking earnestly, "What happened?"

CT-585 was a Storm Trooper. A clone. Just another white helmet. A dime a dozen. But when she got down to the personal level, when she saw so much emotion in his eyes, Padmé knew he was his own person, an individual with feelings and personality. He was Cory, and he wasn't like anyone else in the galaxy.

"You really are special, Cory, you know that?" She gave him a warm smile, which only warmed as his face betrayed confused shock. "What happened was…I don't know. I was stupid, partially."

The trooper remained silent, and Padmé knew she was going to have to explain more. He'd been patient with her last week, probably because he'd realized how upset she was, but now that she was getting back to normal. And so was he.

"It was just some things the Emperor told me," she admitted. "It was…hard to listen to."

"But now it's better?" he asked skeptically. "Just like that?"

"No, not just like that," she sighed. "It's just that…well, Lord Vader explained some things to me that I hadn't thought of before." It wasn't entirely a lie. Showing was similar to telling.

A bright, wicked smile suddenly came onto the trooper's face, and a playful gleam entered his eye, one that Padmé knew instantly that she wasn't going to like. At all. "Oh, I see how it is," Cory leaned back, stuffing his face with chips as he did so. "Lord Vader goes away and you're all emotional and distraught, and the only thing that makes it better is when he's back again, is that it?"

Padmé stared at her friend for a moment in utter horror before a spectacular blush appeared on her cheeks. "No!" she cried. "That's most certainly not it at all!"

"Sure it's not," he winked.

"It's _not _like that," she insisted, wondering why she was even arguing with him in the first place. It only made her look all the guiltier, but it had hit a little too close for comfort.

"Then what's it like?" he asked, leaning forward to show she had his undivided attention.

It took a few moments for Padmé to decide how she should handle this. Cory wasn't like other people. Troopers were bred to hunt out lies and seemed completely immune to the typical political talking around the issue strategy. Troopers were blunt by nature and their thinking reflected it. Once they got an idea into their head they didn't change it easily unless they were ordered to from the higher ups. But _only _from the higher ups.

Sighing, Padmé realized she was going to have to say _something _to get him off her back. "The Emperor said something to me that was very…disturbing," she said carefully. Cory nodded, probably remembering how she'd hugged him and bawled. The poor trooper had had to comfort her, which must have been very awkward for him.

"What he said was hurtful, and it gave me a lot to think about," she began. "When Lord Vader returned from…wherever he'd gone, I was still upset, but he sort of…well, made some good points that I had to think over again. But what he'd said and done calmed me down a little."

Cory was frowning. "Then how is what I said wrong?"

"Because you're implying the romantic, and it wasn't like that!" Padmé snapped. Oh how she wished she could wipe that smirk off his face.

"Whatever you say," he shrugged and went back to his meal.

But the more she thought about it, the more Padmé knew Cory was right. As strange as it sounded, Vader had a sort of…calming effect on her. When he was away she felt like her brain was going to explode, she always had so much to think about. When he was with her, she didn't necessarily have the time to sit and dwell on anything for too long. And since beginning their deal, when he was with her, he had this way of making her feel… so…incredible. A part of her wondered if that was truly what love felt like, but she tried to dismiss it. She couldn't hurry into this.

"Cory?" She waited for his grunt before continuing. "What's Lord Vader like?"

The trooper frowned at her. "You've asked me this before, Senator."

"I know," she sighed, "but I just don't know what to think about him. There are times I think I know a little, but then I find out something or see something, and my whole perception of him is skewed even farther out of whack. I honestly don't know what to make of the man," she admitted.

"He's a good man," Cory said instantly, probably falling back on his training without a second thought. "He's a doer and fights to protect the galaxy. He gets a bad rep. but he does what needs to be done, and does it effectively. He's not like other people that let their fake reputations rule how they move."

That was a good point, even if it was bias and based upon ignorant information. "I know," she said softly. "But there are times when I don't even think he's human, or whatever he is. It's like there's nothing really in that suit."

Cory fell silent, looking a bit uneasy with talking about his boss in such a way. But there was also a determination on his face that bespoke of his desire to help her. Padmé was once again truly thankful to have Cory around, and that she'd taken the time to get to know him.

"Well," he said after a moment, "he cares about you. Isn't that enough?"

Padmé went very still. "He cares about me? He told you?"

"Of course not," the trooper waved her off, momentarily crushing a hope she hadn't even realized she'd had. "But I know he does."

"How?"

"Are you joking?" Cory snorted, looking at her incredulously. "If he didn't, he probably would have passed his assignment to watch you over to me solely after a while. He doesn't _have _to drive you every day, but he does. And then there's the fact that he freaked out when he got back the other day when I told him I was concerned about you."

"He…he what?" Against her will, happiness the hope was back again at the trooper's words. "He…panicked? Are you sure?"

"He did," the clone nodded. "I didn't even get to tell him my full report before he was all but running towards your room. He didn't even stop at first when his P.A. was trying to talk to him until he realized that the lieutenant was trying to tell him about you. And after a point I think he stopped listening to us all together, because he just took off again and went to your room, I assume."

It was all too much information, and it was scary how much it chased her doubt about what the Emperor had said away. It really scared her. Was it all right to feel this way with Vader? Was it all right to trust him? He'd been given every opportunity to betray her, to use and abuse her, but he hadn't. He'd stayed true to his word, he hadn't harmed her since the first day, and he hadn't taken advantage of her at all, not even when she was drunk. Things were indeed different between them, but Padmé just wished she knew in what way. Maybe she would have to test this, see how far she could go.

After a moment, realizing she wasn't eating again and Cory was glaring at her, Padmé began eating a chip, chewing it thoughtfully. "I see," she began carefully, before smiling over at the trooper. "And thank you, Cory. For everything. You're a real friend."

The trooper grinned broadly. It did her heart good to see it. "Do I still get invited to the wedding then?"

Good feeling was gone again. "Shut up, Cory."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Blast these real world issues! Sorry guys, it's been…interesting…lately. But here's a chapter to hold you over once again. Hope you enjoyed it. :)

May I please have some more reviews? I'm really excited to have gotten just over 200, so thanks you guys! You're all awesome! *hugs*


	24. Chapter 24: The Gray

**Chapter Twenty-Four: The Gray**

Meetings with the Emperor were seldom brief and never pleasant. Walking back from one such meeting, Vader found himself extremely exhausted and in no small amount of pain. He'd delayed meeting with his master for a few days when he returned to Coruscant so he could get his mental facilities back in line before facing the elder Sith. Apparently that was a grave mistake. His master was extremely angry with him, and despite having that party to go to the first night after he came back, he had become even more enraged that his apprentice still hadn't come afterwards.

The old man was getting more and more suspicious of him all the time, and added on to that was the fact that the Emperor didn't understand why the Force was shifting. Of course Sidious hadn't voiced this out loud, but Vader knew it was so. The surges of Light were strong, but for whatever reason, Vader found he was able to mask their origins. It was most fortunate considering he would probably be dead by now if his master knew the truth.

When he made it to his rooms, the young man made it to his hyperbaric chamber before falling into his chair. As was custom by now, he had enough energy to pull off his helmet and mask before he just leaned back and closed his eyes, focusing on the pain, embracing it, before mastering it. It was the Sith way. It made him stronger.

Or so his master said. A scowl easily came back to the younger Sith's lips as he thought once more of his master. How he hated the man. He had lied to him about Dooku, had lied to him about his healing, so what else could Sidious have lied to him about? The possibilities were staggeringly grim.

A part of Vader wondered if he should try to heal himself. A good portion of himself whispered of the benefits it would do him. What good was holding on to the pain? It only made him suffer, drove him to near insanity. But then he always hesitated at this logic. He was unused to dealing with the Light Side, and he worried about the impact it would have on him. He'd ventured far enough away from the Darkness to enter the gray area in between the two sides, but no farther.

What if he just abandoned the Dark Side? What if he really did embrace the Light? Would he be weak, like his master said, or was that a lie? Would it change the person he was, creating a new man? Despite hating who and what he was now, it was better than the unknown, the uncertainty. What if he were to try and change, but he couldn't handle it? What if it ripped him apart?

Every passage he'd ever come across regarding the changing of sides was strictly for the followers of the Light falling to the Dark Side. _Never _the reverse. His master had told him once that it was impossible for those of the Dark Side to abandon it. Sidious had said it proved the correctness in following the Dark Side. Once a Dark Force-user, _always _a Dark Force-user…

So what did that make him? Vader had been a Sith almost his entire life. From a small child he'd learned to embrace hatred and fear, to use it to make him strong. Now, here he was, sitting and contemplating leaving all that he'd even been taught behind to follow a teaching that was potentially incorrect and weaker. It was a horribly confusing, frightening thought. He did not _want _to give Darkness up. Not necessarily. There was security in facing the known. He knew the worst the Dark Side could throw at him, he wasn't sure about the Light.

And it was a matter of habit as well. Why would he give up all that he knew to embrace something completely foreign? It didn't make sense. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd be so lost and confused should he change. Not the mention that he would finally have to come face to face with all of the crimes he'd committed throughout the galaxy over the last several years. That, more than anything, terrified him. He didn't think he could handle it.

Instinctively reaching out, his hand hit the computer monitor, groping for the piece of necklace from so long ago. It wasn't there. Vaguely he remembered not seeing it since he'd gotten back. 3PO must have put it away like he'd asked. Just as well. He shouldn't even have that anymore. His master had told him to destroy it, that it would only make him weak, but he hadn't done it. In that instance he'd wanted that weakness. He didn't want to forget about…

But it didn't matter. No matter what he felt, he really shouldn't have gotten too attached to it. Whenever he was in a particularly melancholy mood he would usually take it out and hold it while he meditated. Over the last year or so he'd managed to keep it locked away where it couldn't hurt him, but the other week he'd needed it too badly and couldn't deny himself. Holding that stone piece was his way of holding on to the past, to hold the last remains of a time when he'd actually been happy. It hurt him to do so, excruciatingly so, but he couldn't help it. He _needed_ to hold on to this. Because if he was going to be guilty over something for the rest of his life, it had to be for this.

It had been quite some time since Vader had actively thought about his homeworld or about his mother, but lately he couldn't stop her from entering into his mind, and so did not fight it anymore. Perhaps it was the Force's way of telling him something he needed to know. It would be reopening a wound, but he knew he had to. He already felt like shit, what was the worst that could happen now? Might as well deepen the wound and not have to do so later when freshly healed in mind and body again.

With his eyes closed, he allowed a mental picture of his mother to appear. His chest ached at just imagining her as she was. So warm and gentle, brown eyes soft and loving. She deserved better than a slaves life. So much better. She was a better being than anyone else in the galaxy. If the galaxy were made up of more people like his mother, everything would be perfect. There'd be no need for war or pain or jealousy. Everything would just be perfect.

But unfortunately, life was not fair and the best woman of the galaxy was robbed of even of the basic needs and necessities of life. She was robbed of hope or dignity. She worked so hard, was so kind and patient, it hurt to remember the times when the owners would beat her. She had never deserved any of the harsh punishments, but it had happened nonetheless. Vader felt anger and hatred flow through him as he recalled those times when his mother would cry, and he felt a deep sense of shame because he hadn't been able to do anything about it. His mother, the woman who loved and protected him, had been hurt, and all he'd done was watch.

The Sith's face scrunched up in pain as he remembered all of his failings as her son, but the most unbearable memory of all was remembering the day that she had died. He'd killed her. It had been an accident, he hadn't meant to! But that didn't change the facts. To this day he didn't know what had gone wrong when he'd been working on that racer. One moment it all seemed fine, the next…

The image of his mother's lifeless body still haunted his dreams. He'd tried to go to her, tried to help her, but he couldn't move. He'd been too weak and pathetic to even stand, and after struggling, he'd passed out from the pain due to the minor explosion. When he'd woken up, he was already en route to his master's Sith retreat for his training, sold because his former master hadn't wanted to pay for the medical expenses to heal him. His mother hadn't survived. Her wounds had been far more severe.

A long time ago he'd cried for his mother, wept for her and her memory. Not a day had gone by that he did not regret her passing or the sorrow left him. Now he couldn't cry, the hurt was far too deep. Some days he was able to carry on better than others, but he never forgot. He never would. Shmi Skywalker had just been a nameless slave to the galaxy, but one day, Vader vowed to make her name known and revered. One day, when he ruled the galaxy, he would make sure no one ever forgot the kind woman that had raised him at least for a few short years.

He hated himself truly and deeply for what had happened. Everything else he'd done thus far in the galaxy was bad enough, but to murder your own mother? A woman who had loved you beyond all else? It hurt. If he was capable of killing a woman he adored, why should he stop destroying for lesser reasons? He'd become a powerful Sith, he'd wanted her to be proud.

But that voice of his former self whisper doubts in his ear. Despite how he tried to deny it, Vader couldn't see his mother being happy with all that he'd done. He'd killed so many with so little thought, he could very well image her horrified face. Despite his best efforts to twist the truth and to lie to himself, he knew she wouldn't be pleased with him and all that he'd done. Not even for the fact that he was doing this all in the memory of her, to give himself and others that had been like them a better life that he never had as a child.

_How? By enslaving worlds? _that wretched voice from within sneered.

Vader was too tired to argue with it, and instead allowed the words to echo through his mind. Now was not the time to argue with that other part of himself. Right now all he wanted to do was sit here in misery and allow himself the pleasure of fantasizing about his death. How nice it would be to not have to move about anymore, to not have to kill anymore or be attacked. He could just sit in the ground and rot.

_But that's not what happens. _

It was true. He'd sold his soul for the powers he now possessed. The moment he died he would be dragged to hell, kicking and screaming as he went. The pain there would probably be more painful than anything he'd encountered here in this life. Yet, Vader couldn't help but believe that it wouldn't be anything he didn't deserve. Already he was plagued with more guilt than what should be humanly possible, so hell would be just like any other day of his existence, except with perhaps more physical sensations of pain. He could deal with that. He'd had a lot of practice. It was the mental torment he wasn't looking forward to, although he knew he deserved it.

It was at least a comfort that his mother was resting peacefully wherever she was. His mother had done no harm to anyone or anything and borne her situation in life with more poise than anyone he'd ever met. There were moments when he wondered, though, if she might not be in hell because of him. He'd done so many atrocious things it didn't seem likely that he'd be able to endure all the punishments due. At one point, he'd feared his mother would be brought down for his sins. _That _would be hell, to see her suffering forever because of him. The idea had tortured him so badly he'd gone and looked through the old Jedi achieve on the matter, hoping that it would be able to shed some light on the situation. Thankfully, what he had found said nothing about another person sharing in the sins of someone close to them. But there was still a hint of doubt.

No, his mother was at peace wherever she was, and that was the best peace that Vader would be able to find in this life. At least she wasn't suffering because of him anymore. He didn't have to worry about ever hurting her again.

But there was one who had become close to him that his mind now focused on, who he was currently making him miserable: Padmé. She was nothing like his mother, yet she was everything like. Padmé was fiercely independent and stubborn. She would not have made a good slave, not without being broken first. But the thought of her spirit gone left a sour taste in his mouth. That could never happen. He would see that it didn't.

Images of the senator at the party they attended several nights ago sprang to his mind. She had been nothing short of stunning. Even though he should not have let it affect him so much, Vader had actually been pleased to be seen beside her. She had easily been the most beautiful woman in the room. Others had looked at her with obvious appreciation and admiration, but at the end of the night, it was Vader who left with her, Vader who had rights to her. He hadn't taken her that night, still uneasy with their relationship with each other, but he could have and he would have certainly liked to. Of all the dresses he'd seen her wear, she'd looked the best in that one. Absolutely stunning.

Again, he began to labor over the issue of what they were to one another. They were lovers and he protected her. But even though he had figured out a while ago that he did indeed like her, he wasn't always certain how she felt about him. Before he'd gone to Geonosis, her feelings towards him had been warm and affection. When he'd come back, it was all but total hatred. Now, they were once again in the ambiguous middle area, the gray. It was that horrible twilight between certainty and oblivion.

Strangely, Vader realized that his thoughts on the Force were now linked to the senator. Most consistently, he was trapped in the gray area of the Force, between the Light and Darkness, uncertain what he should do or feel, just as he was when it came to Padmé. When he was with her, his Force signature was more Light, when he was away, more Dark. The easiest thing to do would be to get rid of Padmé as an influence and go back to the way things were before, where he was able to submerge himself into the Darkness and not worry about someone else's feelings, but the problem was he couldn't. Not anymore, anyway. Both the Light and Padmé had sunk themselves deeply into his life, and he couldn't get them out.

This was hell, he decided. He couldn't keep living like this. Sith Lord were not supposed to be this unsure of themselves. The longer he was like this, the more worried he became that his master would find out about what was happening to him. All his plans would be ruined! Perhaps they already where. It was hard to tell with the older Sith. Maybe he had found out and was already plotting a retaliation of his own?

The content of their meeting floated back to his mind, and it caused Vader to scowl. Naboo. The Emperor wanted him to escort the senator to Naboo for the eleventh anniversary of their ability to expel the Trade Federation blockade and invasion. Vader remembered it well, remembered his master planning, but that was back when Sidious had another apprentice.

Vader snorted at the memory of the other Sith. He had gone down easily to his blade. Unlike Dooku, Vader hadn't underestimated Maul, had been patient. And what had made it all the more entertaining was the element of surprise that had come with it. Maul hadn't realized what had happened until it was too late. That had been the first time Vader had stepped up and truly became a Sith Lord. He'd passed the test and killed the other apprentice. The Rule of Two had prevailed.

Looking back on it, however, Vader couldn't help cringe at his younger self's tenacious desire to please his master. Maul had been easy to dispel because the other Sith hadn't expected it, and the young sixteen-year-old had been able to surprise him and made short work of him. After that, he'd begun to think of himself as invincible, and it had nearly cost him his life. What he wouldn't give to go back to that first time, his first real kill, and warn the boy not to do it. To run while he had the chance. But he couldn't and he hadn't. He hadn't because of his master.

Padmé had been all too right. He was a slave. He had been purchased as a slave and beaten like a slave. The shame burned deeply within him, but he couldn't make it stop. What was he supposed to do? He had never been free his entire life, and the thought of having no master was as intoxicating as it was frightening. But maybe he could do it. Maybe, with Padmé by his side, he could destroy his master and rule the galaxy as the new emperor.

It was a glorious thought, to do whatever they wanted, to make the galaxy just like they wanted it to be, but it was fanciful thinking only. Vader was a realist that bordered on pessimism. Padmé wouldn't want to rule the galaxy by his side, as empress or anything else. She loved her democracies and republic. She'd told him so herself. If he wished for her to be beside him, he would have to make some changes to the Empire in the future.

But this trip to Naboo could potentially halt all his plans. The Emperor was suspicious and Vader had a bad feeling about the events. It would occur within the next week, and he wasn't sure how he should feel about his assignment. Of course she would be thrilled to go back. She would no doubt smile at him and call her family. But it made Vader uneasy. Even though he hated Coruscant, it was the new Sith stronghold. Naboo was far in the Outer Rim regions of space. That's where the Rebels lurked. What if they found out and staged an attack? What if they took Padmé away from him?

That last thought was more distressing than any possible attack could ever be. He knew she was a rebel, had known that from the beginning, but what if she were to get away, to free herself? She would be gone, and where would that leave him? He would not only be left with a disaster on his hands and his master's displeasure to face, but he wasn't sure he could make it without her anymore. Somewhere along the way of their strange relationship he'd grown to depend on her to be a constant presence in his life. Her annoying bright Force signature, her brown eyes, and the way she moved were all soothing to him now. Her smiles made him feel like nothing else ever had, but her scowls crushed him more thoroughly than anything else ever had. She was the only thing that gave him a taste of freedom in his otherwise trapped existence.

The point of the matter was that he was in deep. Somewhere along the way he'd lost control of the situation. In the beginning this had all seemed so easy, that he would manipulate her and use her to gain control of the galaxy, but now…now he wasn't sure anymore. They were both using each other for their own gains, and both of them knew that. But somehow, the senator was the one who came out the better for all this, because she had done something no one else ever had: she controlled Vader's actions. At least in part. She made him pause, think, use powers in the Force that he'd sworn to forsake. And what had started out as a simple plan had now snowballed into a disastrous mess in all areas of his life.

Thinking like this only served to make him more confused than ever before. Why did he allow this to happen? There was an easy answer, but he just couldn't grasp it. He was still so new to all these emotions; he wasn't sure how to process them. It made him want to give up, but he refused to do so. It went against everything he stood for.

Just when he forced his mind into quiet, the door chimed. Someone was at his door. Anger swelled in him until he realized who it was. Feeling overwhelmingly tired, he forced himself to stand and walk over to the door as he replaced his mask and helmet over his face. He couldn't bring himself to even pretend to be upset that she'd had to come now, not even to himself.

When the door opened, Padmé stared up at him, and for some reason she seemed confused to see him. Maybe she hadn't thought he be here yet? True it was only twenty-hundred hours, but still. This was his room, why would she be surprised he was here?

He didn't say anything, just stared down at her as she looked up at him. She was nervous about something, but he waited for her to speak. When it appeared that she really wasn't going to say anything, he crossed his arms over his chest, to get his point across. She blushed slightly, as she held out her hand to him. He stared at it, not knowing what it meant.

Apparently he had done something amusing as she smiled at him slightly, and reached out and took his hand in hers. It was strange, no one had ever volunteered to touch him before, and she had only ever done so when blindfolded. It was quite a different experience to have her do so voluntarily when he was clad in his full Sith Lord apparel. When had she really become so comfortable with him? Or maybe she was really just this audacious?

When he felt her tug his hand, he realized that she wanted him to follow her. While normally he wouldn't, he obliged. She was such a tiny woman, she could hardly make him do anything he didn't want to do.

Surprisingly, she led her to her bedroom and he realized the lighting was dim. She smiled at him, not saying a word, before she left him standing in the middle of her room as she went into the 'fresher. Something was happening here, but he wasn't sure what. His breathing quickened despite his best efforts to keep calm. Last time he'd been in here he'd nearly choked her to death, and now she'd led him here. Why?

After a few moments of staring awkwardly around the room, Padmé returned from the 'fresher clad in absolutely nothing. If it hadn't been for the respirator forcing air into his lungs, Vader wouldn't be breathing at the moment. Her cheeks were flushed, but she stared up into his eyes, meeting them as if she knew exactly where they were. And as she walked over to the night stand, she took his hand in hers.

When she reached out and pulled out the blindfold, he knew what she wanted. It amazed him. She _wanted _sex with him? It was the first time she'd ever expressed a desire to be with him like this all on her own without him pushing. He had had theories of her liking him, but for her to _want _him? This was…much more than anything he could have hoped for.

In a matter of seconds, his mask and helmet were lying at the foot of the bed, and he tore off his gloves. He winced in pain, knowing that moving at all was a chore, but he couldn't let this opportunity pass him by. It was the first time she had responded to him in such a way and he would not leave her unsatisfied. He could not. If she wanted this, he would give it to her, even if it hurt him in the process.

It took several minutes for him to peel out of his suit, and he managed to stifle any cry that might have tried to escape in the process. He hated showing weakness, and he would not let her hear it or sense it. It was not her concern and it was nothing he hadn't handled before.

Seeing her in all her glory, waiting for him, sensing her desire, Vader decided that he could afford stripping down fully as she had for the first time, save for the glove to place back over his mechanical hand. He'd often wondered what it would be like to press against her fully, skin against skin, and tonight he was going to find out. He _had _to.

Sitting down next to her, he put a hand on her cheek, loving how smooth her skin felt. Truly she was perfect. Truly there was no one as wonderful as she was. Leaning forward, he kissed her. She responded eagerly, which continued to amaze him. How could this woman feel this way after all he'd done to her?

But soon he couldn't be wondering about all of that as she was pressing herself against him, her breasts against his chest. A moan escaped him before he realized what happened. How wonderful this felt, the simple touch and contact. Not since his mother had died had he felt any sort of physical comfort or pleasure. He couldn't get enough of it. But when he was with Padmé it was…intoxicating.

Somehow, even with a blindfold, Padmé crawled into his lap and straddled him, pressing herself against him further, attacking him with kisses. A sense of embarrassment filled him as he realized she could feel how much he wanted her already, but he tried to block it off and surrender fully to the moment, to the sensations that this tiny woman could elicit from him. He could feel her need just as clearly as she could feel his. They were together in this.

Carefully laying her down on the bed, Vader had to take several deep breaths to just breathe and control the pain that threatened to overcome him. But he would not give in to it. He would not let it ruin this moment.

Slowly, deliberately, he began placing strategic kisses on her throat, around her ears, and down towards her breast. She was squirming beneath him, whimpering and mewling, and it only added to Vader's desires. How perfect she was, how glorious. And she was his. She was giving herself to him freely. That above anything else gave him a sense of pride that nothing else ever had.

When he entered her, it was slow and gentle. Their last time together had been fevered, almost rushed. It would not be so this time. He would make this last as long as he could, because right now, he was in pain and he needed this comfort, her warmth. He needed to be as close to her as he possibly could. Without understanding, he even sought out the mental link he'd connected to her.

This time, as they came together, they shared kisses, and instead of clawing at his back, she was rubbing it, massaging. At first it was painful, but he embraced it as the actions were done out of affection, and he returned the favor with gentle kisses and deliberate strokes. She continued to moan under him, and he found that as he watched her enjoy this, enjoy _him_, his chest tightened with a feeling he couldn't quite place. Without recognizing his actions, he sent his feelings to her over their link, pouring them out to her and gaining hers in return. He had to get closer to her. It was a necessity.

While their blood boiled, needing release, neither rushed. Together they burned, and would melt into one another. This was what they needed, to be with one another, both thinking of the other's need before their own. Right now they weren't a Sith Lord or a Galactic Senator. They were just _them_. It was so wonderfully freeing.

At last, they both came together, panting and sweating over each other. Vader came down on top of her, utterly exhausted and his body humming. It had felt so wonderful to be able to relieve himself this way of all the stress, the confusion, and the misery. But after a several long moments, the pain came licking back into his consciousness and with it the realization that he was probably crushing the life out of Padmé.

He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, his brain completely shut down. He was exhausted and it felt so wonderful to actually be able to stretch out like this. He'd denied his body such basic pleasures so long ago he'd almost forgotten what this was like. When was the last time he'd actually had a bed? Had he ever had one?

As he began getting up, a small hand grabbed his arm. Looking down, the senator sat up, and her face was turned to where he was. "Don't go," she said quietly, sleepily. "Stay with me?"

Vader was torn between his want and his duty. There was still so much he had to do, so many reports and plans that needed attention. But staring at her in that moment, her hair tussled and mussed from their intercourse, he couldn't refuse her. She had such a strange power over him, he couldn't deny her the simple request, even if he would regret it later.

Sinking back down slowly, he laid on his back looking up at the ceiling once more. He was a bit surprised to feel Padmé curl up next to him, placing her arm around his torso and laying her head on his shoulder. Was this snuggling? He didn't know, but he was finding he didn't mind it. Her hair tickled his skin, and thought his body still ached from the Emperor's punishment, he found he didn't care. As long as this made her happy, who was he to deny her?

Tomorrow he would worry about reports and plans. Tomorrow he would worry about the pain and the Emperor. Right now, Vader's sole attention was captured by the woman beside him. He might have regrets later, but right now, he was still in the moment, and soon felt his eyes grow heavy, even as Padmé's gentle breathing lulled him to sleep.

It was the first peaceful slumber he had had in many, many years, not worrying about Light or Dark or the ominous gray that would come with the morning.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A sex scene from Vader's POV, which I realized I hadn't done before.

Thanks again everyone for the reviews! Wow! Over 200! You're all awesome!


	25. Chapter 25: Promise

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Promise**

The next morning Padmé found herself waking up alone. For a moment she was disoriented and confused, having only the vague memory of falling asleep warm and contented. But now there was something missing. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, when it hit her: Vader was gone.

Looking around, there was not one piece of dark fabric lying on the floor save for the blindfold that must have slipped off during the night. Even the other side of the bed looked neater and more kept than the side she had slept on. Had he really stayed with her? She remembered him laying back down when she'd asked him, but maybe he had only stayed until she'd fallen asleep? Maybe he'd gotten up much earlier to work? She wasn't sure, but all she really knew now was he was gone.

The thought disturbed her. She had decided to conduct an experiment to see how far his concern for her went, if he really did care about her like Cory seemed to think, and this was the result. Like always, Vader had disappeared after he'd had his fun with her. It left her feeling cold and cheap.

But surely she hadn't imaged what had passed between them last night? They never spoke, not really, but there had been so much _feeling _last night. It had actually startled the senator. While she was beginning to learn that Vader wasn't as emotionless as he made himself out to be, she had never felt _that _much from him before that wasn't solely centered around anger. Something had passed between them, something she was sure she was the only one to ever experience with him, and it only added to her theory that he loved her.

Maybe he just didn't understand the expectations of him in this sort of situation? Or maybe he really just didn't care about them. Maybe he had a good excuse to get up and actually work on something. Maybe he was of a species that didn't sleep long, or maybe he was just anxious? The possibilities were endless, and Padmé decided that she shouldn't try and think too deeply on this. Vader was still very much an anomaly in so many areas, and she should consider last night a grand success because he'd actually _stayed. _

A stupid smile came to her lips at the thought. Darth Vader, Heir to the Emperor, the man that did not negotiate, had given in and stayed with her. It had only taken a little plead and a slight pout and he'd immediately responded and given in. She suddenly realized what this meant: She had power over Lord Vader.

This was no small feat. Standing up, Padmé wandered into the bathroom to take her shower and ponder over what she'd discovered. While it might not seem like much if it were anyone else, it _was _incredibly huge when it came to Vader. Somehow, someway, she had gained something over him, she was beginning to be able to manipulate him. If he really did love her, she could take advantage of this situation. Who knew, perhaps she could even get him to tell her things, beg him to do bigger and bigger things as their relationship progressed?

But even as tempting as the thought of getting more information for the Alliance was, Padmé knew she couldn't do this to Vader. When it came to emotions, she wasn't one to take advantage of people, at least outside of the political ring. People's feelings were their own business, and the only time she tried to manipulate them was to make a political point. But when it came to personal relationships…?

No, she couldn't do that. Not even to someone like Darth Vader. Even if she wanted to, Padmé knew she probably would have had to think about it carefully. Somehow she couldn't see Vader taking it very well should he learn she was playing with him. She would probably not survive that encounter with him that was for sure. She'd gotten away with yelling at him, but she got the feeling that if she actually wounded him deeply emotionally, he'd wound her just as deeply physically.

But the problem with this wasn't even that she didn't like treating people this way, it was more of the fact that she knew she felt something for him too. Biting her lips, Padmé tried to think of everything she hated about the man she'd asked to stay with her, and even though the list was long, it was also complicated. So complicated in fact, that she found she couldn't hate him. Not exactly. When she was with him it was so…different.

Last night especially, it had almost seemed as though she could…_feel _him. In her mind. It was entirely possible because of his powers, but it hadn't felt like what she imaged it would. It was something warm and sad and _loving_. For a split second, it had felt like he opened himself up to her completely, not saying a word, but showing her himself. It had nearly made her cry, but it had gone before she could really understand what it had been.

Even as she continued to resist, it was becoming obvious to her that it was all a waste of time. Despite all reason or good sense, she was falling in love with Vader. She didn't love him for what she saw or what he let everyone see, it was for those things he _didn't _show, that no one else knew about. Even with her the moments were rare, but he still peeled himself open to let her in, even the tiniest bit. Coming from him, it was touching and must have taken incredible strength.

Sighing, it was with the utmost sadness that Padmé realized she'd spent too much time bathing and would have to get ready for work. She didn't want to go to work today. She wanted to stay home and think. All this up and down of her emotions was taking its toll on her, and she felt almost sea sick from it all. But she would feel better once she actually started working and took her mind and emotions off of Vader. Idly she wondered how much she could have accomplished these last long months of her confinement if she'd actually focused on work and not him. He had become too much of a favorite topic for her to dwell on.

Once she was dressed and ready to go, Padmé was just about to grab her cloak when the door opened. It was Vader, of course. Turning, she gave him a small smile and went back to gathering her things. "Just one second more," she said, not bothering to look at him.

He said nothing, the sound of his respirator her only response. But she didn't take it personally. He was just being Vader, the quiet Sith Lord that seemed surprisingly sneaky when it served his purpose. Still she wondered how he could remain silent until the last second, when it was too late.

Once she had collected everything she needed for the day, she turned back to the Sith and gave another small smile before they set off down the hall in silence and into the lift. Using the excuse that it was cramped, Padmé pressed herself up against the Dark Lord, wondering if he would move to maintain his space. He did not, and if she didn't know any better, the senator would have thought she had felt just the slightest bit of pressure being pushed back at her.

When they exited the lift, however, she made sure to give Vader his space as Cory was there now, ever watchful and vigilant. While Arlo began briefing Vader on his daily meetings and the like, Padmé tried to watch the Sith out of the corner of her eye while trying _not _to look like she was. Again, with the trooper there, she didn't want to risk anything, but she still couldn't help the silly impulses she was getting this morning to tease him. It was dangerous, seeing as he probably didn't even understand what teasing was, but all the same.

When they reached the hanger lift, the senator smiled at the lieutenant, wishing him a good day, before riding down. When they made it to the speeder, Vader strode right in, Padmé following, while the trooper went to the back, as usual, to wait until they arrived at the senate. Now that it was just the two of them, she had the idea to bring up some sort of conversation. She didn't know what, but there was some sort of tense static between them, and she wondered at it.

But before she could speak, Vader beat her to it. "You are to be ready to leave for about a week's worth of time Friday," he stated flatly. "Be sure to bring all that you may require."

This was certainly not what she had expected. "Leaving?" A horrible idea popped into her head. "You mean you're sending me away?"

"I will be accompanying you."

It was both distressing and comforting at the same time. Distressing because it meant that she was still under his watch and the hope of being free was crushed. Comforting because it meant she wasn't getting switched into a worse situation, and she would not have to be away from him. It would be misfortunate indeed if she were to be separated from him before she could concretely and without hesitation decide how she felt about him.

"Where are we going?" she asked. The idea of some sort of fieldtrip was a welcoming distraction as much as an interesting idea. Although she knew she shouldn't get her hopes up when it came to the destination. If she was going with Vader he was probably taking her to some cold, desolate planet.

"Naboo," he said simply.

Padmé's heart hammered in her chest at the name. Could it be? Had he really just said…

"N-Naboo?" her voice came out quiet, almost timid.

"Yes," he confirmed patiently.

"Why?" This was really all too good to be true. She couldn't believe it. Home! She was going _home_!

Vader turned to stare at her, all the while piloting through the dense traffic with ease. She'd long become accustomed to his rather suicidal driving and instead stared right back at him. "Shouldn't _you _know the answer to that?" he asked drily.

While she didn't really appreciate his attitude, it did trigger her memory enough for her to recall what day it would soon be. "The anniversary!" she exclaimed, a smile spreading wide over her face. "You're really taking me home for the anniversary?" She just couldn't believe it!

"Don't make the mistake that this is a vacation, Senator," he growled in a way that she knew meant he was uncomfortable, but was trying to hide it. "I was _ordered_ by the Emperor to take you for the festivities. I had nothing to do with the situation."

Even though he was being a jerk, it was sort of funny how defensive he was being. He had no reason to be defensive. If the Emperor ordered him to Naboo, then that was it. Of course she knew that he wouldn't just sweep her away for some grand vacation. The thought hadn't entered her mind, but it was interesting how it must have entered his. Which made her wonder, _had _he wanted to do something like that for her? Was he upset that this wasn't his idea and that this was merely another business trip?

A smirk came to her face that she didn't bother hiding. "Right. I never thought anything else."

Even with the mask on his face, she knew he was glaring at her. It only brightened her mood. "So what are you going to be doing while I'm with my family?"

"I'll be with you at _all _times," he informed her crisply. She must have ruffled his feathered a little too much.

"Okay…but what about when I'm just with them? Where will you be staying?" she asked suddenly getting a bad feeling about all this.

"With you," he said again. "And we will be staying at the Theed Palace."

Padmé frowned. "No," she said firmly. "I will be staying with my parents. _You _can stay at the palace if you want, but I haven't seen my family in half a _year_. I'm staying with them."

"No. You're not."

Suddenly he wasn't as funny or cute anymore with his attitude. "Yes. I _am_." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I live with my parents, and I'm _going _to be comfortable while I'm on Naboo. I'm not going to stay at the palace."

"Perhaps you have forgotten who is in control," Vader hissed, and a dark, cold feeling filled the speeder. He was really getting annoyed now. "_You _have no say in this decision. It is my duty to watch over you, and we will be staying that the palace."

There really was no arguing with him when he was like this. At least not any productive arguing. But Padmé couldn't stand the thought of being on Naboo and not being with her family. The past six months have been hard. Very hard. She really needed a vacation, even if it was in appearances only. If she didn't think fast, she would lose the chance to finally after too long to spend some time with her family and be comfortable.

"What if you stayed at my parents' house with me?" she blurted out only to wince after. She didn't need to feel Vader's incredulousness to know how stupid it sounded. "I'm serious," she pushed on.

Vader was silent for a long moment, and it didn't give Padmé anymore hope. In fact, she was willing to bet that he was stunned speechless by her idiocy. It really was an accomplishment of some sort to render him speechless, but she didn't fell like bragging about it.

"At least consider it," she begged.

"No."

"Why?" she asked. "There's an extra room."

"Because not only would it be grossly inappropriate, but your parents' home no doubt lacks the security needed to watch over you," he stated tartly. "I would have to post Storm Troopers around the entire area to secure it."

Inappropriate? Had he really considered that? Despite what rumors said, they were _not _dating and they were certainly not boyfriend and girlfriend. It wasn't that she was bringing home a suitor…not exactly. It was strange that he would have even thought about something like that.

But back to the matter at hand, she thought about his argument again. "Then order troopers to watched out for me," she shrugged. She hated to think of her parents' home being surrounded like some sort of prison, but she wanted to go home too badly and knew her family would understand. If this is what it took to be able to feel wholly and completely loved again, as well as to just be able to sleep in her own bed again, she would do it.

Vader didn't respond to her suggestion, however, and she realized that he probably wasn't going to. He seemed oddly defensive, almost jittery today. Maybe last night had affected him more than she had thought. It made her smile. There was no denying he had done evil and was a jerk, but he was also strangely…endearing. But this could only be understood after _long _periods of exposure and getting under his skin if he didn't kill you first. It actually made her wonder what sort of man he was within that suit. What sort of person became Darth Vader? A young man with no family to speak of and no other choice? Or a young man that had nothing to lose and groped for power?

They made it to the senate at the same time as always. They exited together with Cory in tow, walking through the building in an almost companionable silence despite their disagreement earlier. It was still quiet and Padmé found she felt more relaxed than she had in a while.

"You might wish to contact your family," Vader spoke up as they neared her office.

Turning, she smiled up at him. "You'll let me?"

He didn't bother to answer her on that. "You will only be there as long as the festivities require your presence," he went on, as though he hadn't heard her. "They should plan accordingly."

"Very well," she nodded. "I'll tell them that you'll be tagging along with me."

The Sith Lord stopped, crossing his arms, and again, she knew he was glaring at her. "I do not 'tag along' with anyone, Senator," he snapped.

Padmé put her hands on her hips, smirking up at him confidently. "When you're on Naboo with me, you do," she proclaimed assuredly. "You might rule on Coruscant, but on Naboo, _I'm _the big-shot, and you'll have to take orders from me."

Of course she was just messing with him, and even though he appeared to be angry, she knew he understood what she was doing, at least in part. It made her smile. Darth Vader might just have a sense of humor.

"Don't be too proud of this grandiose public image you've constructed for yourself," he pointed at her accusingly. "Your influence and power is insignificant next to that of the Emperor."

Despite it sounding reproaching, Padmé could just make out a tiny hint of amusement. Sighing, she held up her hands in defeat, scowling up at him with mock-frustration. "You would have to bring up the only Naboo more famous than me," she pouted.

Vader just crossed his arms again, before pointing towards her door. "Get to work, Senator."

A sarcastic remark burned on the tip of her tongue and she wanted to roll her eyes at him, but didn't. She'd pushed the envelope a little more just this morning, she didn't want to ruin the last twelve or so hours by making him angry. It was just so easy to do, after all. She wanted to keep this day light.

So instead, she did as she was bid, giving an exaggerated curtsey before she turned and entered her office. Cory followed her dutifully, and together they made it to the suite. When she walked through the door, she saw Jar Jar reading through a report. "Pack your bags, my friend," she called to him, catching the attention of all her staff. "Friday we're leaving for Naboo."

A cheer went up from every inhabitant of the planet, even as the trooper stood back near the door watching. She took the time to answer some excited questions from her exhausted staff. Because of her, they had all been watched closely by Vader and other Imperial officials, and there was no doubt in Padmé's mind that they all just wanted to go home as badly as she did. It had been too long since they'd seen their lush, green world or been off this crowded gray planet. It was definitely time for a change.

When she had explained everything, the senator went to her office and turned her attention to the terminal. Vader had said she could call her family, and that's what she wanted to do. But when she sat down, she noticed she had a message waiting for her attention. She knew that signal.

Calling quickly, Padmé smoothed over her hair before she composed herself. This was no time to be thinking about Vader or home or acting like a child. She had business to conduct now.

When the clear image of Queen Jamillia came into view, the senator bowed her head in respect of her sovereign. "Your highness," she said lowly.

"Senator Amidala," the queen began calmly. "Are you well?"

"Perfectly, your highness," Padmé replied just as serenely. "I seem, however, to have missed your last call."

"Yes," the queen drawled a moment, looking the other woman over carefully. "I wanted to inform you that I made a formal request to the Emperor to have you back on Naboo for the eleventh anniversary. He has complied."

"I have heard," the senator nodded. "Thank you, your highness. It was your request which obviously brought this much needed distraction about."

Jamillia held up her hand. "There is nothing to thank, Senator. You have been from home too long. We have things to discuss."

Queen Jamillia was known for her business-like attitude that didn't give way to much emotional appeal. It was in part what made her a successful politician. It both pleased and saddened Padmé, however. She had been hoping for more of a bright smiles, or pleasant attitude at the very least. She received none. But then again, for appearances sake, they never knew who was watching, it was probably good that they weren't overly familiar with one another.

"All the same," she replied gently. "If that is all, your highness, I should let you attend to your business there as I should mine here. We will be talking very soon."

The other woman nodded calmly. "Very well. Until then."

When the queen disconnected the call, Padmé could hardly wait and counted to three before dialing in her parents' com link and waited impatiently for them to answer. She couldn't wait to tell them!

When she was finally connected, she blinked in surprise for a moment when Darred's face came on the screen. "Hello, Naberrie residence, this i—Padmé!" he exclaimed with a wide grim. "Hey everyone!" he shouted over his shoulder. "It's Padmé!"

In what seemed like mere seconds, everyone was crowded around the screen, trying to get a look at their long-lost family member. "Hi, everyone!" she smiled brightly.

"Padmé!" they all seemed to cry.

"Sweetheart, are you all right?" her mother asked, concern written all over her features.

"Why haven't you called back sooner?" her father frowned.

"At least she called you!" Sola scowled at her sister. "What's with you talking to mom and dad and not even bother to call me, huh?"

Even in the face of accusation, Padmé laughed. Oh she had missed even her big sister's sass. "Sorry, Sola, but last time my call had been very limited."

"Excuses, excuses," Sola rolled her eyes, before sobering, playfulness gone. "But how are you? Really?"

The younger woman refused to let her emotions get the better of her this time. "I'm _fine_," she stressed. "I'm perfectly fine."

Even as her sister's face didn't lose its dubiousness, her mother smiled warmly at her. "Good. Oh, I'm so glad to hear it!"

"So how are the girls?" Padmé asked before her sister could interrogate her further. Sola had a knack for seeing through Padmé's well told half-truths.

Darred rolled his eyes. "As rambunctious and tenacious as ever," he moaned, though there was a hint of a laugh in his voice. "They're excited about the festivities coming up and keep telling all the other kids at school that it's because of their aunt that the planet gets a party."

Once more Padmé found herself laughing. She hadn't in what felt like forever. It was wonderful. "Well, tell them I'm glad I could give them a party," she smiled fondly at the thought of her nieces. "Which reminds me," she came closer to the screen. "For the anniversary, would it be all right if I come stay with you?"

Just as she had hoped, everyone appeared completely stunned by this new, except for Sola, but Sola was hard to ruffle. "You're coming home?" Darred smiled brightly.

"Of course you can!" Jobal cried at the same time her husband snorted, "What kind of question is _that_?"

"You are always welcome here, sweetheart," her mother went on. "I'm so happy to hear you are coming home!"

"Does this mean that the Emperor has realized you don't need to be watched at all hours of the day anymore?" Ruwee asked with an edge to his voice.

Padmé tried not to squirm under her father's hard stare. "Not exactly," she admitted, "but I _do _get to come home!"

In the back of her mind, she wondered how angry Vader would be with her once he found out she made arrangements to stay with her folks. But then he hadn't really given her a final verdict or put their argument this morning to an official close. It was his own fault, she reasoned, even though she knew it was probably a bad idea to think this way. But she _did _have a power over Vader, maybe she would use it this time. Just this once.

Her family didn't look exactly pleased with this announcement, but bless his soul, Darred tried to look positive despite being in the mix of all the Naberries. "Well, that's good news at least!" he cried, giving her a small smile. "I'm glad you're coming home, Padmé. You've been away too long."

"You have," her mother nodded quickly, looking close to tears. "I'm so pleased that my baby will finally be coming back."

"I'm glad too," Padmé nodded earnestly. "I could use a few days to just be at home and not think too hard about anything."

She chatted pleasantly with her family for several minutes before there was a slight lull in conversation. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except Sola was looking uncomfortable the longer they talked and at last couldn't keep silent. "Is Lord Vader coming with you?"

Blinking, not really expecting the question, Padmé nodded slowly. "He'll be coming to Naboo, yes," she admitted. "The Emperor is still…concerned for my safety and wants to make sure that nothing happens."

"Because of that assassination attempt," Sola replied drily. It wasn't a question.

Something was up with her sister, but Padmé couldn't exactly tell what. It was obvious that Sola didn't trust the situation her sister had gotten into, and quite frankly, had she been in her sister's shoes, she wouldn't have either. But there was something more to this, she could just tell. But what was it?

Slowly, the younger sibling nodded. "Yes, I suppose that's part of it. Why?" she asked.

The older Naberrie girl shrugged, suddenly looking aloof. "Just wanted to know so I could plan accordingly."

"Accordingly for what?" Padmé frowned in suspicion.

Sola apparently didn't like that tone of voice as she scowled at her sister. "So I can plan on how far away to keep my children from the Sith Lord. You might claim not to have a problem being around him all the time, but Force knows I will not let him anywhere _near_ my babies."

Despite knowing that Vader was changing—as minute as those changes were—Padmé had to admit her sister was probably right. Darth Vader wasn't a people person by any stretch of the imagination, it was a safe bet that he wasn't a kid person either. It was actually sort of scary to image him with children. She could just see her nieces being trapped in the same room as the Sith. One whine, one cry and those precious little girls could be dead.

"Right," she muttered with a nod suddenly feeling very melancholy. "That's a good idea. But I'm sure he wouldn't do anything to them…if they were well behaved." She winced at how horrible that had come out.

Of course Sola noticed, and snorted. "Padmé," she sighed, "I will never understand how you can be so compassionate and optimistic about people." She paused. "Don't let anyone take advantage of you because of it, or you tell your big sister and I'll come beat them up."

The younger sister chuckled. "You mean like you did when I was six when that boy pulled my hair?"

"Exactly," Sola grinned. "He left you alone afterwards, didn't he?"

Padmé smiled, leaning forward. "Yeah, I'm not sure kicking Lord Vader in the shins will make him run off crying for his mother like it did Donis."

Again, Sola shrugged. "You never know."

"You are something else, Sola," Padmé laughed. "But thanks. I'll keep that in mind. I might even have to warn Lord Vader about you."

"Please do," the other Naberrie sister smiled. "I've gotten pretty good at kicking people."

"Tell me about!" Darred exclaimed, giving Padmé a look in mock-horror.

Sola slapped at her husband playfully as Padmé laughed at them. Truly Darred and Sola were a good match. Darred was too good natured and easy going that he would be easily taken advantage of if it weren't for Sola, while alternatively, Darred could help Sola relax and see the bright side of anything. They completed each other very well, like two different halves of a whole.

Seeing the obvious affection and love between the two left a hollow ache in Padmé's chest. Once more she was confronted by her desires and yearning for a family of her own, and it mixed in with her feeling for Vader. _Could _Darth Vader ever be the one to provide her with a family? Could he be the other half of herself? He was so dark compared to the sweet Darred, almost too dark. What sort of husband would he be—if indeed he ever intended to marry at all? She couldn't even image it, let alone him being a _father_.

"Padmé, sweety, are you all right?" her mother's voice was gentle, bringing her from her thoughts.

"I'm fine," she plastered on her best politician face. "Though I think I might have to go now. I'll see you all very soon, though."

"All right, but call us when you're about to leave so we know about what time you'll get here," her father said, ever the concerned parent.

"I will," Padmé promised.

"And don't forget to rest up," her mother added. "I know this is exciting, but you'll need your rest if you're to attend the celebrations and give your annual speech."

The younger woman rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom."

"Bye, sis," Sola waved. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Sola. Goodbye everyone! I love you!"

A chorus of "goodbye!" and "I love you too!" was heard before the connection was dropped and Padmé was left alone once more in her office. Even though she had loved seeing her family, and she should be excited and distracted about going home, she couldn't help turn her mind back to her sister and Darred. They were just so happy together…

Slumping down in her chair, Padmé turned over all she knew of Vader in her mind. The impatient, demanding Sith Lord…a father? No, she just couldn't see it. And did she _really_ want him to father her children? Didn't her future children deserve a good man as a father? Of course they did! But why would she think that _Vader _could fill that role? He was anything but a good man.

But there was the affection and love she'd felt last night. Vader might not understand basic emotions, but he was protective and strong. He could certainly care and protect a family should he chose to have one. He had said that Padmé would be his last woman, that there would be no one else after her, so if he really wanted children someday, it would be with her…but could she really have children with such a man? Could she really unleash some sort of mini-Vader upon the world? Would a child she had with Vader turn into something like him? Cold, angry, and with those strange Force powers of his? Would it kill and destroy worlds like its father?

Sighing, Padmé grabbed a pad to work on. She had to stop thinking so much. Why was she thinking of children in the first place? And with Vader no less! He was no father, and he never would be. She should be disturbed that she was even thinking about procreating with the man! Was she crazy?! Apparently. Even more so because of the emptiness she felt over the thought of never being a mother and giving probably the last male in the galaxy that should have children a family.

Vader wasn't the only one to make promises, as in that moment, Padmé knew that, like the Sith, there would be no other after him. For better or worse, she knew she could never get close to anyone else after him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry this is late! After work yesterday I ate and then fell asleep. Perhaps it's not so good to run on less than 5 hours of sleep a night…

But I hoped you liked the new chapter! Please drop me a review on the way out if you could be so kind. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks!


	26. Chapter 26: Steps

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Steps**

There were moments when Vader really didn't know how he had gotten into this mess. One moment he's a little slave boy living with his mother, the next he's a slave in Sith Lord's armor. As he knelt before his master, fighting the scream that wanted to work its way past his throat and out of his mouth, laboring to control his body so that he wasn't reduced to a wreathing pile of black cloth, he wondered how he had gotten to this.

Somewhere in his mind, while trying to block out the pain, Vader retreated to his inner most self, the only place that his master had not seen, the only place he could not get to. While here, the young Sith was able to ignore the pain, even though he felt it. Nothing could get him here. He was quite detached, and he was only vaguely aware of the lightning still ravaging through his nerves, of how his mechanical arm was sparking and sending greater waves of electricity through his flesh. Here, he was able to breathe.

There was no reason for his master to be doing this to him today. There was no reason why his master should even want to see him at all today. He had commanded Vader prepare everything for the journey to Naboo. But here he was, torturing his apprentice for no reason. It was not uncommon to do so, but punishments like this hadn't happened since he had still been a child. Now that they had the Empire, Vader had been sure that such things were behind them for good. Apparently not. Apparently the Emperor was furious with him, though the answer to the reason was unsure. He was suspicious, but over what was anyone's guess.

This was nothing more than a display of power. The Emperor was feeling insecure and wanted to make sure Vader remembered who was in charge. Who the master was. Like it mattered. Vader knew who and what his master was. He knew that Sidious was powerful. Vader would have been a fool to forget that, to underestimate the old man. No, he'd underestimated someone only once, and it had cost him, cost him enough that he would _never _repeat the mistake again.

Eventually, the Emperor got bored with his torturing, and allowed his apprentice to go. It took several eternal seconds before Vader could pick himself up, bow to his master, before he walked away. His master said something to him, but he didn't really hear it. He assumed he'd answered back correctly when his master merely sneered at him and flicked his hand, indicating he could go. Vader didn't really remember the conversation as it was taking all of his strength and will to stand and not pass out.

This could not keep happening. This _had _to stop. And so Vader decided that it was time to set things into motion. He'd been waiting for a while now, going slow as not to alert his master of anything unusual, but now it was _his _turn to strike back. He just had to wait a little bit longer…

**oOoOoOo**

Cadet Firmus Piett sat nervously in the shuttle that was descending from the _Vengeance _and towards Coruscant's capital. His face was pale and he was sweating too much, but he worked hard to keep control of himself. It was hard, though, especially since the officers kept looking at him suspiciously. From the looks of it, it appeared as though he was guilty over something, had something to hide. But that wasn't the case. No, it was really the opposite. He had nothing to hide, except the desire to hide himself away from sight. He was terrified.

While he could not remember doing anything wrong, Piett knew that it had something to do with Lord Vader. He had met the Sith twice before informally, terrified both times, but had come out alive. He knew he wouldn't be so lucky this time. Last time he had actually spoken to the Sith, he had asked for Firmus's name. That wasn't a good sign. He had obviously taken his name to extract punishment later. But for the life of him, the young Cadet couldn't recall what his crime might be!

At last, the shuttle landed at the military and navy base near the Palace of the Emperor. Piett had never been here before. Indeed, he was a nobody, someone not worth a second glance. But if he was going to die, he might as well take in the sights and be proud that he had finally made it here. Not exactly under the circumstances he would have liked, but still. He had promised himself that one day he'd be walking this base, and so here he was. Too bad he was going to die.

The troopers that had been assigned to escort him here stood and exited, followed by the officers that believed that they were more important than anyone, and then lastly, him. The officers all gave him a passing sneer before walking away with their noses in the air. Firmus walked more slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. The hanger bay, he noticed, was _massive _with all different types of small ships, shuttles, and speeders. Some he had never seen before, and besides the Imperial standard speeders and shuttles, no other two pieces of vehicles were the same. It was like a museum of flying machines, Piett noticed.

"Come on!" one of the troopers snapped.

The young Cadet jumped slightly before turning and walking towards the troopers, his head almost bowed in defeat. But he tried not to give them anymore suspicions of him being guilty. He _wasn't _guilty. Not that he could remember, so he should try and walk proudly while he still could, and under his own powers. If he was going to go down, he was going to go down with dignity…if he could.

Together with the troopers, Piett entered into a lift at the far end of the hanger and they rode up into a large conference room. Like he expected, it was sterile and clean, and screamed order. It made him smile. He'd always liked order, cleanliness. That's partially why a military career appealed to him. He liked the chain of command, like how everything was neat and organized.

But they didn't stop here. No, the troopers led him out of the conference room and through the halls. They were all so clean, and even though Piett would have liked to have walked slower, to take in all he could, his escorts were driving him forward. Eventually, they made it to a different room, and here, the troopers stopped just outside the door. The door was open to reveal Lord Vader.

A shiver of dread filled the young man, and even though the Sith was sitting down, he was still terribly imposing and frightening. Piett watched in silence as the Supreme Commander was obviously finishing up some business with another trooper. Firmus tried not to listen, indeed, he couldn't really hear what they were saying, but he didn't want to be accused of anything else. He already understood that whatever he said wouldn't matter. If the Sith Lord decided he was guilty, he was guilty. No if, and, or buts.

The trooper with Vader saluted, and the Sith handed him some sort of vial. Piett frowned in confusion. Even though it was none of his business, his curiosity was peeked, and he couldn't stop wondering what sort of business this trooper had that required…whatever Vader had given him. Maybe it was something for interrogation? Probably. There was probably a new political prisoner that needed Vader's _special _ he tried to ignore what he'd just seen as it was none of his business.

When the trooper was dismissed, walking past the Cadet and his fellow brothers, Vader turned his attention now to the new arrivals. Even with the mask, Firmus could tell that the Sith's eyes were on him. It was terrifying.

Standing up, seeming to tower over everything, Vader looped his hands in his belt, staring at those just outside his door. "Cadet Piett," his booming voice filled the room.

Despite his instinct to either flee or faint, Firmus took a step into the room and snapped to attention. "Yes, Sir!"

Vader eyed him for a moment before looking at the troopers. "Leave us," he commanded.

And just like that, the doors closed and Firmus found himself alone with Darth Vader, for reasons unknown. A thrill of terror shot through him, but he did his best not to show it. He stayed at attention, hoping that he would just be killed quickly and nothing would be too drawn out. But, like anyone, he had heard all the rumors concerning Lord Vader and knew those chances were very slim.

"Sit," the Sith commanded, and Firmus had to fight himself not to run and stumble over himself to take his seat. Instead, he kept his salute for a moment longer before calmly—or rather, he hoped it looked calm— walked over to the table and sat only a chair length away from Lord Vader. The Sith slowly sank into his own seat as well.

Once seated, the Sith stared at him, his breathing the only sound. It seemed like any eternity before the Dark Lord finally spoke up. "Do you know why I have called you here?"

Firmus had to hide his trembling hands under the table, as he sat stiffly in his chair, keeping his back straight and his face as calm as he could manage to keep it. "I do not, Sir," he answered truthfully. Everyone knew Vader could read minds, it was useless to lie and excuses would only infuriate the dark creature more.

Unfortunately, he either must have said something thought provoking or stupid, because it took another long minute before the Sith spoke again. "I have called you here today because I require…_special _assistance."

Help? Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, had called _him_, a lowly cadet, because he needed _help_? Relief spread through the young man instantly when he realized he was not in trouble. He wasn't going to die today! Or at least he wasn't if he didn't screw up. And so, after taking a deep breath, Piett nodded solemnly. "I will try to help you any way that I can, my lord."

"There _is _no try," the Supreme Commander snapped. "Either do or do not. I have no interest in anyone who will merely _try_."

Intimidated, the young man found himself nodded. "I _will_ do anything I can to help you, Sir!" he corrected with military precision.

"Good," the Sith drawled before leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. While still an intimidating sight, Piett couldn't help but notice that the other man looked almost…casual as he sat there. Although to associate the word 'casual' was almost as unfitting as using the word 'nice' with the creature. But still, now that he knew he wasn't in trouble for some unknown crime, Firmus found himself intrigued, almost relaxed in a strange way. Helping Darth Vader was not something many people could do, and he wondered what sort of service he could provide his Supreme Commander with.

"I have need of an assistant," Vader went on, startling Piett from his thought. "Someone to see to certain details while I escort Senator Amidala to her homeworld of Naboo." He paused a moment to let the information sink into the cadet's mind. "Are you willing to accept this position? Speak freely."

_Speak freely_ in Vader talk really meant, _I dare you to disagree_, but Firmus knew that he had to speak up now or he'd lose the chance forever. So, timidly, even though his head screamed at him to stop, his gut told him to answer and remain honest. "Sir, you give me a great honor by selecting me for such a task," he began carefully, "but…but I was trained for being out in the field and am, besides, very young. I am uncertain I would serve you adequately, though I would endeavor to perform such a duty to the very best of my abilities."

"Such honesty is rare for one in your position," Vader said, and intrigued air in his voice. "Usually men in your position would grab such an opportunity instantly. You are either very stupid or very wise."

Piett found himself blushing, but fought not to shrink back. "I…Forgive me, Sir, but I believe that there is no merit in lying, especially to a commanding officer." At Vader's nod, he went on. "If I should take the position offered without thoroughly thinking through the situation, I could potentially be unfit without realizing it. If I were, I would not only let you down personally, but my ineptitude might very well jeopardize the entire mission, which would send shockwaves throughout the entire Empire. That is not something I could live with, Sir."

The Sith sat up, taking on a more formal posture yet again, and the cadet knew he was being scrutinized. "Your honesty is most unusual," Vader said quietly, or as quietly as his mask would allow. "Tell me, Cadet, do you find yourself inept?"

"No, Sir," Firmus responded instantly. "Not in what I was trained to do. I am merely…cautious about agreeing to something outside of my training." Vader was silent. "B-but if you have reviewed my records, Sir, and found me capable, I am sure I will learn and adjust, and _will_ do all that I can to serve you in the Empire's name."

He was perhaps being a little too disgustingly patriotic, but Firmus couldn't help it. He really _did _love his Empire. Before the rise of the Emperor, life in his family hadn't been so great. Indeed, nothing around the galaxy seemed to be doing well. All around him there had been gross poverty, war, and disease. When Emperor Palpatine had ascended the throne, with Lord Vader by his side, the two Sith were able to extract quick and decisive action within the galaxy, and all for the better, as far as Firmus could see. People got fed, crime was all but stopped, and the massive injustices in the galaxy seemed solved, or at least drastically reduced so that a normal being could live their life. He believed in the Empire, he loved it.

But as he sat facing the number two of the entire galaxy, he wondered if he should show his true colors like this. It made him vulnerable in a way. What Vader knew he could use against him. Piett understood this. While he believed the Empire was an ultimate good, he also understood that there were times when the large foundation had to show some force, had to have some act as the bad guys because _all _governments had to have someone like that, to make the unpopular, but necessary decisions, and Lord Vader was that someone.

Still…Piett hoped that his conversation with the Supreme Commander wouldn't have to take advantage of what Firmus said.

"Your loyalty to the Empire is admirable," the Sith acknowledged generously. "Yet I find it curious, you say you are loyal to the Empire and serve in its name rather than the name of the Emperor."

Any good feelings of being complimented or from the patriotism died within the young man's chest at the Sith Lord's words. Firmus _was _loyal to the Emperor, but he was also smart enough to understand that the Emperor was just a man…a powerful one, but a man nonetheless. And as a man, the Emperor was prone to the same faults as anyone else. Piett knew his history well and understood that such power could potentially corrupt any being. The Empire was an ultimate good, its leaders potentially weren't, and now that he came face to face with the heir, he was finding it hard to admit this little fact, this core belief he'd always held to himself.

Sweating, the young cadet thought over how to handle this situation. "I _am _loyal to the Emperor," he began, but then faltered. What else _could _he say? Could he admit that in certain circumstances he would oppose the man that had brought about the creation of the Empire? Piett wasn't sure he'd be able to. What if Lord Vader took it the wrong way? What if he was seen as a traitor when he really wasn't? Would the Sith Lord understand him if he proposed a hypothetical scenario?

But as time went by and still Firmus could think of nothing else to add, he realized he was had. He still firmly believed in not lying to his superiors, though he was tempted this time. How had he managed to get himself into this position anyway? Curse his blindness! If only he'd been able to think ahead, he could have made sure not to walk into such a trap. Though this _was _Lord Vader he was up against. Somehow Piett knew that he would never be able to outthink the Sith.

And so, with nothing else to say, he sat helplessly, staring into the masked face of the Sith Lord, who had strangely remained silent. After another few torturous moments, Vader sat back once more, nodding. "You are loyal, but understand circumstances that may require rebellion," he said Firmus's exact thoughts. Had he deduced this himself or had he read his mind? Either one was disturbing to the young man. "Your honesty is rare, Cadet."

Not knowing if that was a compliment or not, Piett nodded his head, opting to remain silent. What was going to happen to him now, he wondered? Was this an elaborate plot to flush out rebels or was this really Vader's way of selecting men? Firmus had heard that often times Lord Vader handpicked his officers, maybe this was just the Sith Lord's strange version of hazing?

"I have reviewed your files, Cadet, and have found you adequate for this assignment," Vader went on, as if forgetting all about their discussion of patriotism and loyalty. "I have already sent word of your transfer to the _Vengeance_ and you will begin your duties tomorrow morning at seven hundred hours."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Effective immediately I am promoting you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander." Firmus's eyes bugged out a bit. "Your upcoming duties will include organizing security along with one of my Storm Troopers for Senator Amidala's safety. You will also be in charge of watching her and protecting her in my absence and arranging transportation. Should anything go wrong, and more force is required, you will be in control of organizing defenses and attacks.

"Overall, you will help to coordinate all the security and events surrounding the senator. You will answer to no one except to me, although I suggest you listen to my Storm Trooper commander. When en route to Naboo, you will inspect the ship and all escape pods, as well as watch the other officers. You will not have to comply to their commands save in the event of an emergency. You are under _my _command. Remember that. You will be sent more detailed instructions which I expect you to memorize."

"Yes, Sir!"

"I am relying on _you_ for this assignment. Do not disappoint me, _Commander_."

Piett was shaking again. "Yes, Sir!"

"You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir!"

And so, with that, Firmus stood, saluted, and walked out of the conference room and out of Lord Vader's presence, shaken, confused, and amazed. Had that really just happened? Had he not only been specifically selected by Lord Vader himself for a special assignment, but promoted well beyond his expectations at the same time? Really? And at eighteen-years-old, no less! He was already a high ranking officer in the Imperial Navy! He still couldn't believe it!

As the shock gave way to realization, the young man found himself smiling stupidly as he walked through the halls of the Naval Base. _Him_, a Lieutenant Commander. Who would have thought? His family was going to be so proud!

"Commander? Commander!"

Firmus was startled when another officer stepped in front of him, and only then realized that he had been addressed. "O-oh, excuse me, Sir," he immediately apologized, not at all used to his new rank.

The other man smiled at his stutter, being a good five or so years older than him, but also had an understanding gleam in his olive colored eyes. "It is not a problem, _Sir_," his smile widened at Piett's surprised expression at being shown such respect. "I am Lieutenant Pilor, Lord Vader's personal assistant here one Coruscant," he explained easily. "I'm to show you to your quarters while here on base and to see to it that you get fitted for your new uniform."

The young man's eyes must have betrayed his shock, and the Lieutenant smiled almost brotherly at him. "Right…carry on then," Piett said, hoping to sound authoritative, though he knew he failed.

As he followed the other man, the excitement of all that had happened wore off, and worry began to set in. He wanted to talk to the other officer, but at the same time, he was still in the mindset of a lowly Cadet, unworthy of speaking to a glorious Lieutenant. But if he was to serve Lord Vader adequately on this mission, he knew he would have to shake himself out of this mindset quickly. He was, after all, expected to inspect even higher ranking officers once en route to Naboo.

"Lieutenant," he began carefully, knowing that he was only just a step ahead of the other man. When Pilor turned his head and gave him his attention, Piett continued. "You obviously know that I have been promoted by Lord Vader."

"Yes, Sir," the Lieutenant nodded.

Being addressed with so much respect felt surreal. "You realize that I was just a cadet a few moments ago."

"Yes, Sir."

Firmus suddenly felt disgusting and sleazy. "I had always dreamed of working my way up the ranks and proving myself worthy of being an officer…now that I am suddenly a Lieutenant Commander, I can't help but feel that I've…cheated somehow. Do you think that I deserve this honor?"

The older man stopped walking and stared at his companion thoughtfully. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?" he asked with a kind smile.

Squirming at the formality and respect given to him, Firmus nodded. Would he ever get used to anyone speaking to him like this?

"This is how I see it, Commander," Pilor went on, thankfully ignoring the younger officer's discomfort. "Lord Vader is an excellent judge of character. He knows exactly who he's dealing with before he meets them. With just one look he knows who to trust and who not to. If you have managed to capture his attention and impress him enough for him to consider promoting you like this; you're obviously deserving, and he must see that you'll work hard to _earn _this quick promotion. Right?"

"Of course!" the younger man nodded quickly. He wanted so very badly to prove himself, to show that he was worthy of Lord Vader's special attentions, even after only _seeing _him twice before. This promotion was almost a shame now that he thought about it if he didn't work hard and live up to the expectations thrust upon him.

"Then, if I may, Sir, just work," the Lieutenant shrugged. "Prove that you're worthy of the title. Working for Lord Vader is not easy, I won't lie to you, but if you do what's required and you give it one hundred percent at all times— which ever officer should strive to do in the first place— you'll be just fine. Now, come on, Commander, let's get you ready for your first big assignment."

Smiling at the other man, Piett nodded before following him through the base. It was time for some hard thinking and even harder work, but _Lieutenant Commander _Firmus Piett was determined to _do_ his duty and prove that he was everything Lord Vader apparently saw in him.

**oOoOoOo**

Sola frowned as she sat at her family home. While things were turning up in their favor, she still had an unsettling feeling about the celebration coming up. It was a relief to hear that Padmé was coming home, she wondered at the Sith that would be coming along with her.

Plans would have to be rearranged in order to get Padmé away from Vader, she knew. Originally, it'd been believed that her sister would be staying at the Theed Palace along with the Sith, but now the sneaky little senator had found a way to get away and stay with her family, but that wasn't exactly comforting. While it was great that her sister would soon be with them again, that meant that she was potentially bringing danger with her. Sola absolutely did not want Darth Vader anywhere near her children, or the rest of her family.

No, things were going to get tricky from here on out. It was still unclear as to who exactly would be coming with her sister, but there was a safe bet that the Dark Lord of the Sith would be stalking around close by. While Sola was willing to put herself at risk to help her little sister, she was _not _willing to jeopardize the rest of the family. This was all getting a little too close.

And then there were the Jedi to worry about. They had assured her at the beginning when it was believed that Padmé would be staying at the palace that they could hide themselves…or at least Master Yoda had. Obi-Wan, Sola noticed, had not looked as confident as his master. Master Yoda had said there was a way to block out the Force signature and mask it for a certain length of time, so that they could essentially hide from Vader. While she didn't want to sound negative, Sola didn't believe the little green master. Darth Vader was like a well-trained hunting animal. There was not a Jedi that got away from him once he'd set out to hunt them, and even Obi-Wan hadn't successfully evaded the Sith Lord. Whatever plan Master Yoda had, would not work…

But then, who was sure to disagree with the Jedi? Sola wasn't even the least bit Force sensitive and knew very little of the strange powers. All that she knew was that there were very few who could wield the great, mystical power, and the most powerful she'd seen, apparently, was in Darth Vader. That was not a particularly reassuring thought. And it only served to make her more worried about her sister, despite Bail saying that Padmé had some sort of _power _over the Sith.

What did that mean? This _power_? For months now there had been rumors surrounding her sister and her involvement with Vader. At the beginning it had been that she was a Rebel sympathizer or worse—which was true. But then it had changed to talk that Rebels were out to hurt her and the Emperor had assigned his Right Hand to protect the well beloved Senator of Naboo. But things didn't stop from there, oh no. No, next there were rumors, and pictures, of Padmé and the Sith Lord together, like some sort of bizarre couple.

Bail had told them that Padmé had been drunk that night, but as Sola looked at the pictures again on her padd, she couldn't help the uneasy feeling she got. Padmé was completely vulnerable looking in the images. While she was laughing and smiling, Vader was watching her closely. There were stories that the creature in black could read minds…Sola wasn't sure if that was completely true or not, but from the pictures, she would not put it past the creature to have tried to read her mind then, when she was not able to protect herself or give struggle. Maybe Vader knew everything anyway. Maybe Lord Vader knew everything Padmé did…

Obi-Wan had raised an interesting thought the last time she'd seen him. When Bail had admitted to be getting spy information from her sister, the Knight had objected, and wondered if he had not been attacked by the Sith because Vader _knew _what information Padmé had gotten a hand on. It made sense, and went exactly with the stories of Vader. But then, Bail had had the utmost confidence in her sister, probably because Padmé had been so sure of herself. But just because Padmé was sure of herself and Bail believed her, didn't mean that Padmé was right or necessarily secure. Darth Vader didn't get into the position he was in just because he looked scary, Sola was sure.

"Ugh!" the oldest Naberrie daughter let her head _thump_ down on the table by the computer terminal. "Padmé, why is it always _you_?" she muttered.

The name 'Naberrie' had somewhere along the lines become synonymous with 'stubborn' and while Sola believed she'd inherited a fair share of stubbornness, somehow Padmé seemed to have come up with ten times more. Which only became worse when the younger Naberrie sister went on one of her damned moralistic crusades. Sola believed herself to be a moral person, but Padmé… well, she was fifty times worse, never quitting until she oversaw _personally _that everything worked out for everyone's benefits. It was admirable, but then, the elder sister wish her sibling would take a break and think of herself every once and a while.

If only Padmé had had a man in her life, none of this would have happened…or at least not to this extent. If she'd had a man around for her after her terms as queen, Padmé would have likely settled down with him before this whole galactic mess had started up and the Empire was not even spoken of. Perhaps when Palpatine and Vader had come into play, the former queen would have started a family of her own, and not been so eager to put herself at risk for her family's sake. Yes, then Sola would have gotten to see her sister's infamous self-sacrificial ways come to a halt as she'd think about a husband or child.

Sighing, Sola knew that it was really no use thinking about the 'what ifs' still lingering about her mind. The facts were simple: Padmé was _not _married, nor did she have much holding her back, meaning the senator could happily put herself at risk as she believed that it was her duty, never once thinking of her parents or sister. Padmé was also an apparently high ranking member of the Rebel Alliance as well. And now, because of her sister's inopportune stubbornness, Sola was going to have to pick up the pieces. Sure Padmé wouldn't like it that she was getting involved, Sola felt it was her duty, not only as her sister, but as a citizen of the galaxy. It went against _her _morals to sit by when such an opportunity was placed into her lap.

So, getting up from the terminal, Sola decided that she had to come up with a few plans of her own to help her sister. Because one way or another, Padmé was _not _going to stay under the care of some evil Sith Lord. Sola would see to that _personally_.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well…I'm back. Had an extremely rough last couple of weeks, so forgive the absence. But things should start to settle down again…I hope. Enjoy! And reviews would very much be loved and appreciated right about now. Thanks!


End file.
